Kick It In The Sticks
by SoonerMagic
Summary: Max Ride is a young city girl who's never spent a full day in the country, and she would like to keep it that way. But her boyfriend, Dylan, has a cousin down south and the guy's having a full-blown party out in the sticks. And he can't wait to show Max that country boys do it better.
1. Chapter 1

_Yo, SoonerMagic here! Yeah, I know that the title was probably a tad throwy-offy, but seriously, listen to the awesomeness of Brantley Gilbert's song Kick It In The Sticks. It's AMAZING! Seriously, I listened to it till my computer went dead. But no lie, it is pretty beast I love it. You may have to listen to the song to actually get what I mean in the story, but you might not have to. But it is a goooooooooooooooooooooood song! Promise!_

_This story has pretty much everyone in it, even Ari. I like Ari, but not like THAT. Don't worry, we're good there lol. And it's like a whole story, but kind of not cuz it won't be that long, maybe 10 chapters at the most. And I hope to update pretty fast. _

_P.S. Max is a city slicker in this story, but I ain't. No lie. I have a farm, I go to a school that barely has 500 students Pre-K to 12TH, and I do mainly all the actions in the story and song. It's fun as heck too. _

_P.P.S. Plz listen to the song already! It's short only 3:47 and it's so good! _

_Disclaimer: Don't own the geniusness of Maximum Ride or Kick It In The Sticks. But I wish I did! :)_

I'm a girl of extremes. When I love something, I'm like a newborn puppy. When I'm ticked off, I'm like a whole swarm of freaking red wasps. When you try to harm me, Maximum Ride, I go all WTF-wanna-fight-you-F-head-hope-you-know-a-good-hospital-dummy on them. When someone tries to harm my family or friends – there's too many to name – I'm like a mama bear trying to protect her cubs.

Newborn puppy + crazy fighter + red wasps + mama bear = Dangerous.

But when you're a city girl who's never actually spent even an hour in the country before – and your _boyfriend _wants to take you to a party of his cousin's – you feel like you're on a different planet. And for those of you fellow city-slickers, you know that alien feeling of being out of the environment you're used too. Like you're an alligator among hundreds of crocodiles – or, more appropriately, a heifer among hundreds of fillies. And just for you clueless people, a heifer is a female cow that hasn't been bred yet, and a filly is a young female horse. See? You learn stuff in the country.

It didn't make it any better that my boyfriend Dylan had – without my knowing – invited my younger brother Ari and his girlfriend Monique, a.k.a Nudge. But what really bothered me is that his jerk of a best friend Holden decided to tag along too, bringing his girlfriend Kate as well. I liked Kate alright, and Nudge too, even though she was three years younger than Katie and me at fifteen. My little bro was cool too, but Holden was another story...

The scenery was actually beautiful, I guess. Being from up north in Tulsa, I never saw what I was seeing right now. Rolling prairies with tawny and light green colored grass and thousands of hay bales doting it; high, rocky mountains that stretched on for miles and created a valley; endless forests and woods, no doubt crawling with tons of animals and insects. Tulsa wasn't like this, and I didn't know if it was a good change or not. I was still mad about being drug along.

"Do we seriously have to go to a party in _Monroe_?" I asked out of habit, already knowing the answer but wanting to hope that he'd changed it and was just going through this one-horse-town as a shortcut into Arkansas, where we'd go to the movies and eat at an expensive restaurant and, heck, rent a motel and sleep there. Anything would've been better than this God-awful place that we were currently driving to. Seriously, I searched for the small town of Monroe on Google Earth and the only thing I saw was water and land. "Honestly, would your cousin be that mad if you missed this party?"

Dylan sighed, switching on the blinker of his 2011 Chevy Silverado and preparing to turn off the main highway, onto a dirt road that looked as if it went on forever. Great. "He's really a cool guy, and he throws some of the wildest parties," he answered me, rubbing his hand on my shoulder as he turned, smiling sympathetically at me.

If he knew that I didn't want to be here, then why the heck was he bringing me here? It was just a party; there were dozens of them in and around Tulsa all the time. And, since I was Maximum Ride, star on the basketball, volleyball, softball, swimming, soccer, and track team, and A+ student, I didn't have to go out of my way to be invited.

I sighed exasperatedly, crossing my arms, and heard Ari chuckling at my behavior. Usually, I didn't whine this much – tomboys have a reputation that's hard to keep up. But you can see the current dilemma my otherwise perfect life was presenting me with now.

"Who is your cousin, Dylan?" Kate asked Dylan, leaning over the seat enough to show her obvious cleavage that was visible through her pale yellow tank top. I did like Kate, don't get me wrong, but she was so open and easy that it made me sick. And the fact that she had a thing for Dylan just rubbed me the wrong way, but I knew how loyal he was and he'd never leave me for her.

Dylan looked over his shoulder at Kate and smiled a genuine smile; Kate sat back and crossed her arms, satisfied by his easy smile. "His name's Travis Hawthorne, but we all call him Fang," he answered, and the way he said Fang – like it was a sacred, holy name, only allowed to be spoken with the highest respect of anyone – sent tingling, sensational shivers down my spine. Just who was this Fang?

Nudge, never one to be excluded from a conversation, added, "When is it going to start?" Her high pitched voice sounded weird compared to Kate's husky tone, and I had to remember that Nudge was fifteen; Kate and I were eighteen, graduating in the spring of next year along with Dylan and Holden. Nudge's curly dark brown hair was tied back into a loose pony tail, a small tendril escaping as the winds from the window whipped it against her face, and she had a lavender colored streak dyed into her side bangs. She was always fashionable, unlike me.

Dylan chuckled, meeting Nudge's curious golden brown eyes in the rearview mirror. "Nudge, hon, this is the _country_. When someone has a party, it doesn't start at a specific time. It's whenever the first person shows up," he answered, reaching out an changing the radio from my favorite channel 93.7 to some country music station, like 99.1 or something. I gave him a cold glare, silently asking why he changed it. In response, he shrugged. "People around here don't listen to that kind of music."

"Since when do you care what other people do?" I challenged him, my sour mood affecting the way I talked, adding a vicious tone to it. And I had to admit, I liked it. I was never one for following the rules or ways of other people; rules were meant to be broken, and I was too original to copy anyone else.

Dylan pulled on his collar, and opened his mouth to respond but the jerk Holden interrupted. "You see, he wants people to think that he's from around here so no one tries anything with you , Maxie," he said, his amused voice making my hands clench. Have I mentioned how much I hated him? "Isn't that right, Dylan? Mess with another man's girl, and you're just asking to get your ass kicked."

I turned around and slapped Holden upside the head, repulsed at his immature explanation. That didn't really happen here, did it? Because if it did, I'd be gone in five seconds flat. Deciding to put my pondering into words. "Dylan, that doesn't really happen, does it?"

Dylan refused to look at anyone, and I knew he was choosing his words carefully. Preparing for the long wait, I turned my head and looked out at the forest that outlined the old dirt road, watching as the orange sun slowly sunk below the tops of the tallest pines, leaving hot pink and purple streaks throughout the pale blue sky. I guess this place was gorgeous, and it smelled heavenly, like freshly mowed hay and wet asphalt. But that didn't mean that I liked it.

"It depends on which guy's girl you try it with," Dylan said finally, and I turned to him, perking my ears up as he readied himself for an explanation; the others followed my example. "Like, if Holden here tried to move in on Fang's girl, Fang would probably pound him so hard he'd have to spend a couple days in the hospital. That's Fang, though. There's much worse."

Here are the questions that entered my brain right at the moment: Was Fang really that badass? Why did Dylan talk like Fang was a freaking god? Who is this guy? Did he have a girl? And why am I bothered by him having a girlfriend?

"Dang, your cousin sounds totally cool," Ari said, laying his arm across Nudge's shoulders as she settled against him. Aw young love. They were a cute couple; Ari with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, and Nudge with her dark brown hair, golden brown eyes, and mocha skin. They contrasted perfectly with each other, and they way they looked together complement their features.

"I guess," Dylan said as if it were nothing, but a minute ago he was talking about Fang with the utmost respect, like he held Fang high above everyone else. And that ticked me off to no end. "He's different, though. Wild, crazy, and he won't hesitate to hurt any of you, so watch your backs. He's my Dad's brother's youngest son, and he isn't that much older than us; he's only nineteen."

Time for Holden to put in his two cents. "Then why are you taking us here, man?" God, I hated him so freaking much. I just wanted to crack open the back glass and shove him through it. Does that qualify as abuse?

"Because, Holden," Dylan started as he switched on his blinker on again and turned off the dirt road, onto a gravel-paved driveway. "Fang asked if I would come, and he said to bring you guys. Simple as that." Simple as that? Simple as that! I was about to meet a guy that would (possibly) kill someone if they tried to make a move on his girlfriend. Yeah, _that _sure was simple.

We drove the rest of the two miles in silence, Holden randomly saying how bad the animal manure smelled. I tried to count the T-posts, but quickly gave up because they were blurring my vision and making my head hurt as Dylan sped down the driveway. I was _so _not ready to meet Fang. I could tell by the way that Dylan spoke about him that he was one to be taken seriously, and could easily mess you up, and – you won't hear me admitting this aloud often – it scared me. Because, for once in my life, I didn't know what was about to happen. And I hated that feeling.

Dylan dragged me from my reverie as he stopped the truck and switched it off, opening his door as he pocketed his keys. "Well, we're here." They were people loitering all over the expansive yard, either holding bottles or cups that I guessed were alcoholic beverages, ranging from beer to moonshine.

The house at the end was big, two or three stories high, and it was nice; not what I expected a hillbilly's house to be like. It was painted snow white, and looked like it was well taken care of. It had a beautiful wraparound porch with rock under paneling, and pillars positioned expertly around the house, supporting the roof that had dark green roofing metal on it. The GIANT yard that surrounded the gorgeous farm house was cluttered with all kinds of farming equipment: tractors, balers, rakes, brush hogs, tillers, etc. Many different styled cars and trucks were parked everywhere, outlining the road and even pulled back behind the house, leaving room for whatever other people desired. There was a giant red barn about a football field's length away from the house, and beside it was a sawmill, manure spreader (don't laugh), and two metal silos. Behind the house was another barn, except it was smaller and the green paint was peeling off.

It was actually quite nice; again, not at all what I expected.

I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle, not giving the people scattering the yard a second glance, but when I heard Nudge gasp and Kate sigh in pleasure, my head shot up so fast I swear I got whiplash. They started to giggle hysterically, practically jumping up and down with excitement and squeaking out some girly mumbo-jumbo that I couldn't – and didn't – want to understand. What was it?

My eyes eagerly searched the yard, curious as to what them two were making a big fuss over. My eyes caught sight of an extremely tall – tall as in, he towered over me and I was six foot – guy wearing a shaped Oklahoma Sooners baseball hat, smiling crookedly as he acquainted himself with a young couple that were wrapped up in each other as they lounged against a 2010 Dodge Challenger (nice cars, by the way). I narrowed my eyes skeptically, wondering what all the fuss was about, and studied the guy a little closer. But when he turned toward us and started to approach us, his long legs carrying him swiftly to where Dylan was reclining against the hood of his truck, my eyes about dropped out of my head.

The guy's – man, what was his name? – shaggy black hair was covered with a hat, glueing it to his head and allowing it to flow freely over his ears and neck. His skin was tanned, bronzed from spending so much time working outside probably, and his body was long, lean, and muscular. He was wearing a tight black Hanes T-shirt and dark blue Wrangler jeans, which outlined his perfect, masculine figure.

But his face is perhaps what took my breath away. His lips were full and pouty, covering into a welcoming smirk as his dark, dark – I swear, they were black – eyes roamed over us, sending wonderful tingles down my spine for the second time in ten minutes. His nose wasn't big at all, and was perfect – well, my kind of perfect. His cheekbones were well-defined, and the setting sun cast shadows across his gorgeous face, accenting his good looks. Oh my holy hotdogs, these guy was off the freaking chart! I swear I almost melted into a puddle of Max right there.

Gawking, my eyes about to bug out of my head, I asked Dylan, "Who's that?" Was it just me, or did I sound like I'd just swallowed a frog? Nudge and Kate weren't doing much better.

Dylan smirked in the satisfied way he had. "That, my friends, is my cousin, Fang," he answered, and I about started to cry.

What the crap?

_Ohhh, yeah baby! 1ST chappie's a done deal! ;) I'm totally note good at details, but I think I made it a little clearer than I'd originally had. Hope so! This stories pretty much gonna be about Max and Fang hangin' out on the town with some buds and Max realizing that Dylan isn't the one for her. Was it that bad?_

_Is it too much to ask for you to press that little button at the bottom, and say something? Even a "Hi, your story sucks!" would be acceptable lol. Seriously though drop a line by and tell me what you think of it and what you think I could do to improve it. Plz!_

_Also, I had no idea what Fang's actual name is, so I just winged it. Travis, cause that's like a hot name, and Hawthorne, after Gale in Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games Trilogy. (Team Gale all the way baby!) _

_Virtual Fang kisses and shout outs to whoever reviews! ~ SoonerMagic_


	2. Chapter 2

_Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum! Lol I was real tired when I wrote this but I did! Just for you amazing people (if anyone is even reading this lol). O-shkay, here's chappie two! Hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it! Okay, Fang might be a tad outta character but bear with me here he'll get better as the story progresses. Same with the others. _

_P.S. Listen to the song pplz! Kick It In The Sticks by Brantley Gilbert. Remember it! The beat is just so freaking amazing!_

_P.P.S. When I was writing this, I was literally having a slapping fight with some stupid bug. Just thought I'd share that little tid bit of info with ya! ;)_

_**Disclaimer**: Me no own anything that is said in this chapter, like the songs and characters. I don't even own the idea of this story, well I actually do but it's a song. Anyway, on with the story!_

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One word passed through my mind at that moment, written in big, bright, neon green letters as it continuously repeated itself.

_Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, hot, smokin' hot! _He was definitely one of the hottest guy's I've ever seen. Of course, Dylan was too.

Fang reached his hand out and enfolded Dylan's smooth one into his strong, calloused one. _God, his hands were hot too! _Fang was very tall; at least 6'5 because Dylan was an easy three inches taller than my six foot. The two cousins said hello like old friends, and then Ari and Holden slowly approached, as if they were frightened of Fang.

You couldn't blame them, not really. Because I still frozen in mid-step, half out and half in the truck, still staring stupidly at Fang as he shook hands with my brother. I swear, numerous bugs were probably swarming in my opened mouth, and I wasn't smart enough to close it. Of course, Kate and Nudge were doing much of the same.

Snapping out of my current mental state, I shook my head hard, as if trying to dislodge water droplets, and shakily stepped out the rest of the way, testing my legs before I allowed myself to stand. Kate, daring and ready to flaunt herself, was already beside her actual _boyfriend_ Holden, smiling crazily and holding an eager hand out to Fang.

Nudge was a little more shy; she bit her lip and unhurriedly walked to stand beside Ari, who was unconsciously admiring Fang's golden belt buckle. From what I could see where I was shutting the door, it had a bucking bull and a cowboy holding on for life, one arm thrown into the air as his cowboy hat flew off backward. I wonder where he'd gotten it; it was pretty cool.

I'm not the shy type – I'd speak my mind without hesitation and if you didn't like it, then tough – but this unknown hillbilly had me speechless. Was it his dangerously good looks? Or perhaps the tons of people that seemed to part like the Red Seas whenever he walked past? Or the high regard that everyone – including Dylan – seemed to bestow upon him? I honestly had no idea, but I was intimidated, and I didn't move from my solitary position lounging against the door of the Silverado.

But Dylan seemed to not like the idea of me meeting his cousin. Stupid. "Max, come here and meet Fang," he called to me, reaching out his hand and gesturing toward Fang as Kate flirted with him. Was it too much to ask for her to wear a shirt that actually covered her cleavage? Oh man, what was _wrong _with me? Why do I feel suddenly possessive of Fang, and I haven't even uttered a single word to him yet? More importantly, why could I feel a searing heat burning my insides as I watched him lightly take Kate's hand when the only thing I've ever felt with Dylan was fluttering butterflies? Was that _bad_?

Fang, hearing his name being said, casted a quick glance at Dylan before moving his dark gaze to the left, where I was still standing awkwardly beside the truck, torn on what to do. He saw me, and his eyes widened a half inch, his perfect mouth slowly spreading into a warming, seductive smile that made my toes curl in my worn-out black sneakers. He didn't wait for me to approach him, though. He simply turned his back on Kate and walked away from her in mid-sentence, toward me as I stared openly at him, not sure what to do, my eyes probably about to bug out of my head.

It seemed to take him a year to walk around the truck to where I was standing, and when he stood confidently in front if me, I was aware of how hot he was all over again. "Howdy, you must be Max," he drawled, his southern accent highlighting his deep voice. I swear I sighed in pleasure at his deep, sexy voice. Oh goodness! "Travis, but I go by Fang. Nice to meet you." Dear Mama Mia, his voice was so sweet, but it held something in it, like wildness just itching to be released and strength that none of the boys I knew could compare to. Not even Dylan.

Oh my God, he held his hand out! What do I do, take it or politely decline and say hello? Screw being a goody-two-shoes, I reached my hand out and he grasped it in his, smiling slightly at my strong grip. "Hello, Fang, it's nice to meet you too," I said, hoping that my voice was steadier than I felt, but I couldn't be sure. Holy crap his hands were amazing! And up this close, I could see his eyes extremely well. They were a deep, dark brown – like dark chocolate – and had small, individual golden globes swarming around in them. Fang had the eyes of a person who could do whatever he pleases, he just had to put his mind to it.

The others were approaching Fang from behind, but he didn't let go of my sweaty palm till Dylan appeared in his peripheral vision. "Dylan here's told me a lot 'bout you," he said, motioning to Dylan with his hand. Why did Dylan have to go and interrupt my handholding with his hot-hot-hot cousin? Oh, yeah he's my boyfriend! I smiled sheepishly in my mind; my bad, I forgot.

I grinned toothily, although it was more at Fang than Dylan, and shaded my eyes from the bright setting sun. "Oh, really? What all has he told you?" I asked, my hand still tingling warmly from his. What was I thinking? This was Dylan's _cousin _for crying out loud! I couldn't hook up with him for two reasons: A) he's Dylan's cousin, and B) a hot-hot-hot guy like Fang must have a hooker girlfriend somewhere. It was a common rule of hot guys. Also, I was more loyal than that, people.

Fang shrugged, and I had to suppress a triumphant grin as Kate whispered something nastily colored into Nudge's innocent ear about me coming onto Fang. "Stuff about y'all winnin' a lot, and how smart you are. That kinda stuff," he answered, watching my expression closely. Oh my, I could see the dark brown freckles dotting his gorgeously bronzed skin. Dear Lord!

I couldn't answer, though, because I was interrupted by a loud, deep voice screaming, "Dude, is that _Dylan_? I ain't seem him in a while, man!" Curiously, crinkling my eyebrows together, I glanced over Fang's jet-black shoulder, immediately catching sight of a guy, around Fang's age of nineteen, with shaggy strawberry blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and fair skin, laughing hysterically as he ran toward us, his brown boots kicking up dust as he approached speedily. He slammed into Dylan, catching him off guard and causing me to have to flatten myself up against the truck, and they both fell to the ground, the crazy guy on top.

"Dear God, man, get off!" Dylan shrieked, his voice sounding high pitched and citified compared to Fang's southern monotone. He thrashed around some, his golden hair becoming the home of several sticks and leaves, until he finally gave up and just started to laugh. "I've missed you, Ig!" The guy – Ig, I guess – was laying on top of Dylan, his arms wrapped around my boyfriend's waist like a football linemen when you tackle someone – arms securely wrapped around their waist, and jabbing your head firmly into their abdomen, using all your power to force them to the ground. Dylan just laid there, taking it all. Was he _gay_?

Carefully eying the two, I motioned for Holden to ask who they were. He shook his head, and I flipped him the bird. In the end, he decided to ask anyway. "Who's that, man?" Even Holden's deep voice sounded like a young teenage boy's compared to Fang's. Help me, I really had to stop comparing everyone to the brooding Fang.

Fang flashed me a grin before turning his attention to Holden and the others. "Well, that's my cousin James, but we call him Iggy," he responded, sounding bored, reaching his hand down to help Iggy up as Dylan dusted off his Aeropostle jeans. So different from Fang and Iggy's worn Wranglers. There I went again.

"Y'all can call me Iggy too, man," Iggy piped in, smiling hugely as he overlooked everyone briefly before his eyes landed on me, still pressed up against the truck. "Oh, Dyl Pickle, you never told me your girl was a hottie!" He whistled pervertedly, and I averted my eyes, a slight red blush warming my cheeks. Did I consider myself a hottie? No, but I wasn't ugly. My hair was long and straight and brown with natural blonde highlights, my eyes were brown from my Mom's Hispanic ancestry, and my skin was slightly tanned. I had a nice figure; I only weighed about 120 pounds and most of it was muscle, and I looked really good in most everything that I wore. Not ugly, but was I really a hottie? I didn't think so.

Saving myself from impossibly more embarrassment, I quickly chimed, "Where's the bathroom?" It wasn't a total lie to get out of acquainting myself with Iggy and Fang more; I really did have to go. And I was sure that Kate and Nudge had to too. I just hoped I could find it in that enormous, beautiful house at the end of the driveway.

Fang opened his mouth answer my question, but Iggy beat him to it. "You go in, and take a right till you reach the stairs, then you take a left and it's the third door on your right," he answered, turning his hands ever which way as he spoke. Okay, that was too complicated for my jacked-up – thank you Fang! – brain to comprehend, but I could just ask someone in the house if I couldn't find it.

I nodded, smiling in appreciation at him, and motioned for Nudge and Kate to go ahead. I pushed off from the truck and took a step on my still unsteady legs, and almost immediately had to stop myself before I collided with a lean, hard chest. The person chuckled deep in his throat and stepped aside, allowing me room to pass. Unconsciously, I raised my head and saw Fang staring down at me, a blazing, secretive look in his darkly colored eyes.

Before he could see my obvious blush, I walked swiftly off, my long legs reaching Kate and Nudge easily. I could hear the guys laughing in the background, and I unintentionally sent a prayer up to the Lord asking him to watch Ari for me. I suddenly started to feel itchy, sensing someone was watching me from behind, and I boldly turned around, my eyes instantly landing on Fang as he gazed at something my way, though I had to way of knowing if it was me he was staring at.

Brushing it off as pre-party jitters, I turned back around and tried to make sense of what Kate and Nudge were talking about (i.e how hot Fang was) but I couldn't keep my mind centered on the words being said. Sorry, but I was too busy goggling at the tons of people littering the expansive yard, listening to AC/DC, Lynard Skynard, and George Strait, and noticed the way they looked at me, like I didn't belong. Which, I guess, was true, considering I've never actually spent a day in the country. Well, except for that one time my dad Jeb took us camping, but that's another story.

Totally giving up on the hormone-struck girls I was walking with, I valiantly met everyone's gazes evenly, every once in a while nodding or saying hello to them, my city accent contrasting greatly with their hick language. I didn't mind, though. It was a nice change to hear someone that didn't sound like they were plugging their fake nose job while they talked. And don't worry, I don't and will never talk like that.

Eventually, we reached the charming farm house, awkwardly climbing the rock stairs as numerous people ran in and out, hollering and carrying unknown things. I watched as a girl, about fifteen with light blonde hair and dark blue eyes, attempt to push the screen door open with her bottom, but she failed and nearly dropped the tray of burgers she was carrying. Instinctively, I ran up and pulled the door open, nodding to her when she smiled her gratitude.

"Why, I know who you are!" the girl exclaimed, her hick accent combining with her high-pitched, squeaky voice, making me want to cover my ears and scream. But I was polite, raising an eyebrow in explanation when I saw that she wanted to know I'd heard before she went on. "You're Dylan Batcheldar's girlfriend, Max, right?" Seriously, this Daisy Duke imposter knew me too? Dear heavens! And she did look like Daisy Duke with her cut-offs and hot pink button-up blouse that she'd left a couple top pearl-snap buttons undone. And don't get me started on her boots...

I smiled in answer, holding my hand out and she took it difficulty, having to hold the platter with one hand. "Yeah, Max Ride," I replied, smiling still as I motioned to Kate and Nudge. "This is Kate and Nudge; they're my friends from Tulsa and decided to tag along."

The girl was friendly, shaking both Kate and Nudge's hands before she introduced herself. "Well, my name's Starla, but most people call me Star," she said, and I realized her voice didn't annoy me as much as it had before. It even fitted her... outfit perfectly.

"Star, we need food now!" a loud, deep male voice bellowed at Star, and she rolled her eyes, huffing a breath. I raised another questioning eyebrow at her, and she just smiled happily, even though she was glaring at the person over my shoulder.

"Sorry, I'd love to stay and chat, but Ratchet's too lazy to get his own food," she explained, snorting at Ratchet's name. Okay, either he was her controlling older brother or lazy boyfriend. Either way it still sucked. "Oh, Ratchet's my boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance when he buys my ring. Anyway, I'll see y'all around right?" Fiance? This girl looked like she was barely fifteen! Although looks can be deceiving.

"Sure," I retorted, though I honestly didn't know because there were so many people here. And I could still see people as they drove up along the driveway. I watched as she ran off, yelling crazy words at Ratchet, even though I could tell she loved him a lot by the way her eyes lit up when she spoke his name.

We walked in, expertly side-stepping people as they bounded out the door and through the hallway. More than once I was forced to press up against the wall. But I didn't mind; these people fascinated me. The way they greeted each other, the way they teased and joked around even though, at the end of the day, they were the best of friends. It really knocked me for a loop.

The house might've been nice on the outside, but the inside was indescribably beautiful. As soon as you stepped through the door you came face-to-face with a long wooden table pushed up against the ivory wall, with hundreds of keys laying scattered across it. If you looked right, you could just catch a glimpse of a fluffy couch loitering on the plush green carpet, and several people lounging on it. A giant flat-screen TV was positioned next to an attractive fireplace, wood setting in it. A game was playing on the TV, Oklahoma Sooners against the Texas Longhorns, and I am proud to say OU was winning 21 to 10 in the first quarter. And Texas had just gotten a holding penalty. What can I say? I'm a football fanatic.

The modern-looking kitchen was to the left, people crowding its gorgeous granite bars and tables, so we turned right, which took us through the gorgeous living room and in to a lightened, mobbed hallway. The hallway's ivory walls were cluttered with family pictures, tons and tons of different kinds. There were at least half a dozen doors on either side, and I suddenly remembered what Iggy had said about walking till you found the stairs. About five seconds of walking later, we stumbled across this beautiful staircase that had ivory pillars and white-carpeted planks. We walked up them, holding onto the side as we were lifted into the air by our feet.

I was so enchanted by the beautiful way this house was set up that I didn't realize we'd reached the bathroom till Kate was shutting the door in my unsuspecting face. Nudge was too busy gazing at the amazing house to talk, so I didn't utter a word as I willed Kate to hurry with my mind. I just looked around, gawking openly. This hallway was, perhaps, longer than the one we previously went down, and I counted seven doors on both sides. The floor up here was an off-white, and I liked the way it unnaturally complemented the white doors and wooden walls. Kate came out about a minute later, a fresh layer of makeup on her fair face and yanking me from my thoughts. I motioned for Nudge to go ahead, and she obliged willingly, smiling thankfully up at me.

"Hey Max, I'm going to go find the guys, okay?" she asked seemingly innocent, though I knew she was going to find a guy she could get it easy with. Hooker. I nodded, watching her exposed back as she descended the stairs. Then I noticed that her butt had _Juicy _written across it, and I started to laugh. A little word of advice: if your butt is ever juicy, go to the freaking doctor. They'll fix you.

Nudge came out quicker than Kate, and she asked if I wanted her to wait. I shook my head and she walked off excitedly, leaving me alone to do my business. I sighed and opened the bathroom door... and almost fell flat on my face.

Damn this house was nice! The floor was black and white tile, with a forest green rug laying in the middle. The sink was granite like the bars in the kitchen, and was off to the far left, with several opened cabinets poised above it. The shower was off to the right, with a Rebel flag shower curtain pulled back, revealing a tawny-colored wall. The toilet was in front of me, and it had dozens of stickers on it. I smiled to myself as I walked over to it, ready to do my business.

I won't scare you with the details of my little potty break. Let's just say that I was still shocked at how well taken care of and handsome this hillbilly's house was. And I say hillbilly with the utmost respect. Honestly, though, this house was marvelous, and it almost rivaled my house in Tulsa. And I did say _almost. _

Content with my empty bladder, I opened the white-painted wooden door, and came face-to-chest with a black T-shirt. Immediately, I knew who it was. _Fang_. What was he, a stalker? And where was my boyfriend? Ugh, I didn't have time to ask questions if I wanted to save my hide from embarrassing myself further more. Forcing a hot blush that was threatening to spread across my already heated face, I raised my head and gave Fang a questioning look as I side-stepped him, pulling the door shut behind me. "Yes?" Politeness is the key, Max! Good girl, you deserve a slice of bacon. Oh God, now I was craving bacon!

He looked over his shoulder, as if checking if anyone was behind him. "Some of us are goin' fishin'," he replied, gesturing to the stairs as he met my eyes boldly, a ghost of a smile hinting at his lips. His dark eyes roamed my face, almost unnoticeable because of his tattered baseball hat, but I caught it. "We were wonderin' if you'd like to go?" Me, invited to go fishing? Really? Sure, I'll go. But there's one little thing: I had no effin' idea how to fish! I tried to hide the distressed expression from my heated face, though I had no idea if I succeeded or not. I hoped so. Maybe me not know how to fish was a bigger problem than I thought...

"Sure...?" I said, although it came out more as a question than anything. "I'd like to. Who all is going?" Atta girl, Max, way to keep the conversation up as you walked awfully close to him toward the stairs.

He looked up at the white ceiling, the light casting shadows over his handsomely carved face. "Well, me, Dylan and the others, Ratchet, Star, Iggy, Gasser, Angel, Maya, and you. And about half the other people that are here," he answered, giving me a sly grin. "Oh, and don't worry. I'll teach you how to fish, Max."

Wow. Was it _that _obvious?

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_Okay, that wasn't the greatest but I tried okay? Give me some props on that at least! this was longer than the 1ST and I like that, but I wasn't so good at describing because I had no idea how to describe the house I saw in my mind. I hope I did a good job!_

_Hit me with a review people (if anyone is even reading this lol). I always need suggestions on how to make my story better, and I don't mind criticism, although it'd probably tick me off for a while but I'd get over it lol. Seriously tho hit me up ppl you know you want to... That button's so lonely down there by itself. tear_

_Kick It In The Sticks – Brantley Gilbert _

_~ SoonerMagic _


	3. Chapter 3

_I wanna thank everyone who reviewed cuz I forget to give shout outs but I was so happy to read them all! I was bragging to all my classmates of how awesome you guys are! ;) And whoever said that Travis wasn't a hot name, that's your opinion. I like that you cared enough to tell me tho! The reason I picked it is because it gave it a country-feel and that's what I want. And I hope I'm doin that! Oh, and I picked Hawthorne cuz I freaking love Gale Hawthorne from the Hunger Games! If you haven't read the series, DO IT NOW! _

_Also, if you live in the South like moi, you'd know how freaking ANNOYING all the dang severe weather is! And it's scary too. Tornados freak me out more than anything, and I am NOT proud to say that one passed right over the town next to where I live last Thursday when it was real bad. Because I had my Shox on when I heard the first crack of thunder at like 5:00 pm. Can it just end already?_

_P.S. I got a review from someone who said Kick It In The Sticks was their fav song. I forgot who you were so mind tellin' me? Thanks. And I totally agree with you!_

_P.P.S. If you've listened to the song, PM and tell me what you think and how I can make my story better.:) _

_P.P.P.S. Just a little info for ya: I've decided that this story is gonna be more than 10 chapters cuz I'm adding stuff from other songs that talk about partying in the south. We're looking around 15 – 20, maybe more. We can do it!_

_**Disclaimer: **Me, sadly, no own any copyrighted material that is mentioned in this story, but I like to think I do! :)_

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After silently fuming over my obvious distress and leaving the house with Fang leading the way, I was ready as I'd ever be to fish. But I couldn't guarantee that I'd catch anything other than a stick or boot or something to that effect. Heck, I had trouble catching lightning bugs when I was little, so what made anyone think that I could catch a freaking fish? And did I even have to mention that I was still inwardly freaking out over my encounter with Fang by the bathroom? Jeez, I was practically hyperventilating, and I've never had breathing trouble before other than when my allergies kicked up.

I was painfully aware of Fang as he held the door open for me, and the way his scent filled my nostrils. And, this may sound weird, but he smelled amazing, like leather and Axe. God, his smell practically had me drooling in front of him as he stopped to greet a woman of about twenty something with flowing blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid. I can't explain it, but I felt oddly... possessive of Fang as the woman flirted by fingering his shirt lovingly. She was almost as bad as Kate. But I didn't have time to get mad because Fang said a quick goodbye and we walked off, leaving the woman staring confusedly at our backs. Suck it, whoever you are!

We stepped from the porch, Fang's boots giving off a mild clicking sound on the plywood boards compared to my soundless sneakers, and I noticed that the sun had almost completely set behind the house. Looking around curiously, I saw that there were about thirty people crowding around the steps, with many others spread out around the extensive yard, and I could just barely make out Dylan's golden blonde hair as he chatted away with a tall kid of maybe sixteen who had spiky cornsilk yellow hair and deep blue eyes.

Dylan spotted us standing next to a rock pillar and, saying a quick goodbye to the guy, jogged over to me with a bright smile on his too-cute face. He skidded to a halt in front of me, wrapping his arms loosely around my waist as Fang – still intimidating me and confusing me by the feelings that were swarming around in my chest – smirked at us. "Hey, babe," Dylan said, and I rolled my eyes at his nickname for me. Although I couldn't help the smile as it spread across my face. Dylan was always good at giving me sweet attention like that. "Did Fang tell you that we're going fishing?" Dang, his voice sounded _so_ much different from the others' around here.

Fang – the hunk, I've decided to refer to him as – nodded his head, refusing to speak it seemed, and so I spoke for him. "Yeah," I planted a tiny kiss on his nose before backing out of his arms, unknowingly stepping closer to Fang in the process, and I professionally ignored the fluttering of my heart as it almost beat from my chest. What was up with that? "When are we leaving?" I'd do anything to stop the sudden raging flame that was engulfing my entire body as I stood next to Fang, and I silently wondered if he had to do the same, although I highly doubted it.

"Now," he replied, drawing the word out. Dylan looked at us quizzically, first at Fang and then me, like he was checking if something was wrong. Which nothing was, I assure you (and if you're smart enough, you can tell that I'm being sarcastic). I guess he didn't find anything wrong, though, because he added easily, "Oh, Max, you'll have to ride with Fang if you don't mind." Whaaaaaaaaat?

Did I mind? Of course I freakin' minded! My mouth dropped open without my knowing, and I could feel my eyes almost pop out of my head. You're my boyfriend, Dylan. You're not supposed to let me hang around with a guy – especially your _cousin –_ that sent my heart racing whenever I caught I glimpse of him. That's, like, a rule for dating. And if it isn't, it should be. Either Dylan was just stupid, or really, _really_ trusting. Dear Hotdogs how was I going to survive?

Closing my mouth before any germ-infested bugs could fly in, I responded wittily, "Sure, fine, whatever." Okay, maybe it wasn't as witty as I'd planned, but it was for me and the current hormonal state I was in. Feigning casualty, I shrugged and risked a quick glance up at Fang. "Who's all riding with you?" Was it just me, or did my voice just crack in embarrassment? Father who is in Heaven, please help me! I didn't think I could survive being in a car with someone that looked like Fang.

He shrugged in answer to my question, and I saw him glance at about five other people, several of which looked familiar, as they approached us from all different directions. "Whoever can fit, I guess," he said, his voice sounding gruff as if he had something clogging up his throat. "Ratchet'll take his truck, which means he'll have about six people ridin' with him, and I'll let someone else barrow my truck." His truck? What was he going to drive then? I wasn't walking through a muddy pasture and to a probably-muddier pond because these jeans I had on were new and from the Buckle at the mall in Fort Smith, Arkansas. Nice and stylish jeans, I really liked them and the way they allowed me to move comfortably.

After a moment of silence from all three of us – although it wasn't exactly silent considering all the loud noise and activity that was going on around us – Dylan announced, "I'm gonna head out, then." Fang and I nodded our understanding and waved as he jogged off toward his Silverado after he'd given me a quick kiss on the temple. "Oh, and Max? I think Ari and Nudge want to ride with you," he called out over his shoulder as he dodged a couple sucking each other's faces off. Yuck.

Fang and I stood there in an awkward silence, waiting as the five people – including my brother and Nudge – all were surrounded around us. Everyone I pretty muck knew except for the two blondes, but the boy looked familiar; he was the boy Dylan had been talking to. There was a girl, though, that I didn't know. She had cornsilk yellow hair and big blue eyes. Was she that boy's sister? Probably, I guess.

Ari, realizing that I had no idea who the two siblings standing in front of me were, was nice enough to introduce them. "Oh, Max. This is Gazzy," he announced, pointing at the boy. Gazzy – what an odd name – smiled crookedly and tipped his black cowboy hat at me; I smiled back politely. "And this is Angel, his sister." The girl, Angel, well she did look like an angel. Her blonde hair was framing her pale face, and her deep blue eyes gave her an innocent appeal. She was beautiful, I realized, smiling and holding my hand out to her.

"Hi, Angel. My name's Max," I said, shocked at the tight grip her hand had on mine. To me, strong grips mean strong people. And very few people had grips that compared to mine and even my brother's. But Angel didn't strike me as a strong person. Although, a crazy, insane part of me deep down inside said that she was one of the strongest people I'd ever meet. The sun had officially descended behind the huge mountain that surrounded the small town of Monroe, and the bright moon shone on her blonde hair, making her look even more like an angel. Heck, her soft pink Western-style shirt and dark Levis even made her look like an angel.

"I know," she said, smiling welcomely in return. I liked her already. "My older sister Star told me she'd met you." Oh, so Angel wasn't as old as I'd thought, maybe sixteen at the most. She seemed nice, and her brother acted as if he were gentlemanly enough. Although I did know one thing for sure: country boys were raised to respect people and even give the shirt off their back if someone was in need of it. I'd learned that much from all the movies I'd watched.

"Well, now that everyone's met, I say we head out 'fore Jim and Bo take my honey hole," Iggy said, using both thumbs to point backward toward something. Straining on my tip-toes – the guy was taller than me, thank you very much – I looked over his shoulder and gasped loudly. I never knew...

Parked beside the house was a 1969 Dodge Challenger – like the General Lee from _the Duke's of Hazard –_ painted blood red with a the number fifteen wrote on the side, written in big, bold, black letters and outlined with white. On the top, from what I could see, looked like a _T _and an _H intertwined_ together, written in white and slanted over the top. It was two-door, so I figured the black leather seats were able to be pushed up if necessary. Which it was.

It was an amazing car, and I was still gawking openly at it as we neared it, unconsciously aware of how dangerously close Fang was to me. And you know what? I couldn't care less about the indescribable feeling his closeness was bringing as I stared at the car. I really did like his car; I should probably take a picture of it for my dad since he was a classic car fanatic.

Three thoughts entered my mind right then, and they were: _Oh God someone get his hunk away from me, Wow Fang's butt looks absolutely amazing in those tight Wranglers, _and _This hillbilly's got class._

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The dictionary's definition of fishing is the activity of catching fish, either for food or as a sport. My definition of fishing is hell, pure, undeniable hell for both the fish and me. And, again, being the city-slicker that I was, I had no idea how to bait a hook, cast out, or even reel in. Luckily, I had the Greek god's (Fang) older brother Ratchet teaching me how to bait, cast, and reel. Unluckily, I was completely ticked off because A) my boyfriend Dylan was too busy fishing to teach me, and B) I thought Fang would be the one to teach me. Jeez, I sounded like a whine bag. Which I wasn't, I swear to you. But Fang did say _he _ would instruct me. Was I that terrible to be around?

And this is just a little secret between you and me, but I actually wanted Fang – badly – to coach me on fishing more than I did Dylan. Is that wrong?

"Okay, this is how you do it, Max," Ratchet announced, taking my attention off Dylan and the way he was too caught up in fishing to help me – his _girlfriend –_ learn how to bait a hook. Also, yanking me away from watching Fang walk up a small hill and idolizing his amazing butt. And did I mention that Fang was like a freaking Greek god? Oh, I did? Sorry, his hotness is totally screwing with my mind. "You take the minnow and take the hook. Then you hook the minnow through his top fin, 'cause it has a better chance at stayin' on that way. And if you need to you can double-hook it you can, but it kills the fish faster."

As he spoke, I couldn't help myself as I wondered about Fang and how his large, calloused hands baited his hook with such care. They were big and tan, although they could do the hardest of tasks with the utmost gentleness, and with a sudden shock I realized I wouldn't mind having them hands on my body. Which wasn't just insane and out of the question but totally weird, considering Dylan and I haven't even been passed second base. And I'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

And do I even half to tell you about the card ride over here? Dear goodness, it was absolutely terrible yet amazing at the same time. Is that even possible? Fang, Iggy, and I were in the front, and of course I was in the middle, my left leg nearly overlapping Fang's and my heart beating so loud I thought it'd wake up the penguins in Antarctica. In the back were Ari, Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy, and they wouldn't shut up the whole ten minutes it took to drive from Fang's house to the pond. And do I have to mention that we had to cross a barbwire fence? Well, we did, and Iggy fell flat on his face in the mud as I tripped over the fencing, but Fang caught me and, Dear Lord, the boy has the most amazing body in the world! I never thought a chest could be that hard...

"Max. Max? Are you listenin'?" Ratchet asked, snapping his fingers in my face, grabbing me from my ever-wondering thoughts. I shook my head to clear my mind, and nodded my head quickly in answer to his question. _Just touch me with those godly hands already, Fang... _Wait, where the crap had that come from? That question was impossible to answer.

"Yeah," I voiced my answer just in case he misunderstood the shake of my head and my nod. He eyed me skeptically, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, the Bass Pro Shop hat he was wearing shadowing his face from my immediate view. Off to the side, I heard Iggy laughing softly as he helped Angel grab a minnow from the neon yellow bucket in the back of Fang's other vehicle, his 2006 black Chevy Silverado – different from Dylan's. And, I was beginning to realize, different was better sometimes. Fang's truck was the only one that had enough power to drive through the metal gate and not get stuck, so it was the only one over here, and everything was piled on it.

"Oh, yeah?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing as he bent slightly so he could see my face more preferably, even though it was a full moon out tonight. I had to admit, he looked totally cute – not the way Fang did – but still cute nonetheless. "Prove it. What'd I just say?" Holy crap, what do I do?

"Uh... um, well you said something about a fin and minnow," I answered, shrugging unknowingly as I forced myself not to freak out. I really had to work on controlling myself whenever Fang was around. I guess it didn't exactly help when I was talking to his older brother who looked much like him except he was lighter and his eyes were just brown, not that gorgeous dark brown. He smiled softly at me and began to talk again.

Music was blaring from someone's truck – Ratchet's, who was older than Fang by three years at twenty-one – and I realized I knew this song. It was Fishin' In The Dark by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. My dad used to play it all the time in the car, and I thought of how perfect it suited what we were currently doing: fishin' in the dark.

Unfortunately, I got so wrapped up in the song that I didn't listen to Ratchet as he was explaining it again. And by the time it registered in my mind that maybe I should listen he was finishing up. "Got it?" Uh, no?

Thankfully, I was nice enough to save him from explaining it again, and I just nodded my head. "Yeah, thanks Ratchet, you're real cool," I said, praising him, and his eyes beamed with acceptance and appreciation. Ratchet really wasn't all that bad; he was more talkative than Fang and more open, but he wasn't too chatty and I was grateful to him for that because sometimes I have nothing to say and don't really want to talk. He really was pretty cool, and Star was lucky to have him as a fiance.

"No prob, Max," he retorted, holding his hand out for a shake. I accepted it willingly, not freaking out that he had numerous fish scales glued to his hands. I didn't even think twice about wiping the scales twice on my Buckle jeans – which was a great accomplishment for me, let me tell you – as Ratchet walked off to where Star and Kate were fishing by a towering oak.

It was then that I finally took a good look around. About twenty feet in front of me was the pond, and even though it looked murky and ominous in the faint moonlight, I didn't feel scared or intimidated by its dark depths. The pond was surrounded by different kinds of trees – like oak, spruce, pine, maple, and cedar – and on the far right side there was a small hill that ran the length of the pond. That was where most of the people were. Nudge, Ari and Holden were close to Dylan, attempting casual conversation as they fished. Star, Kate, Ratchet, and Angel were on the left side, and I saw Angel wiggle up a tree like a squirrel. Tons of other people that I didn't know were spread out spaciously around the pond, laughing and talking loudly, and I even saw someone throw a beer bottle into the water. Sitting below a small maple was Gazzy and Iggy, and I saw them holding a piece of paper out, reading it from the light of Iggy's apparent cell phone. Oh, my cell phone! Digging around in my back pocket, I grasped my iPhone 4 and set it on the tailgate, under someone's orange Western-style shirt.

And then there was Fang, all alone on the far right corner, his dog Boomer, who was a hyper half-lab half-pitt, snuggling closely to him, begging Fang to scratch him behind the ears. He was so... so... God he was indescribable!

"Hey, you must be Max," a high-pitched voice – though it didn't even compare to Star's – said behind me, and I spun around, almost dropping the pole Fang had let me use. I saw a girl of probably nineteen, with long light brown hair and brown eyes like mine, though that was where the similarities ended. Whereas I was tall, she was short and not as muscular as me. She was thicker, likely from eating grilled food and drinking all the time like the other people. And her face had way too much make-up on it. Other than that, she was actually pretty. Under all that powder, that is. "I'm Maya."

I grasped her outstretched hand and shook it, noticing that her grip wasn't as strong as Angel's or the other people I'd shook hands with. "Nice to meet you," I said, smiling although I could tell it _wasn't _her pleasure to meet me. What had I done? Something told me to be aware of Maya, and to watch my back. I dropped her hand, noticing she was starting to squeeze a little too tight for my comfort. Awkwardly, I turned my head upward and gazed at the starry sky, wanting to just forget about what had just happened. Wait. _What _had just happened? Shrugging it off mentally, I said, "Nice night."

She sighed. "Sure is," she replied, her voice sounding oddly loud in the quietness of the night. "I've seen better though." Okay, did she mean to do that? Make me want to ask her a question? Jeez, why am I so curious all the time? Can't I, for once maybe, mind my own dang business? Guess not, 'cause I asked anyway.

Intrigued, I asked quietly, "Oh, when?" Again, why do I have to be like I am? I swear, one of these days my curiosity is either going to get in me serious trouble or – worse – killed.

I could practically see the triumphant grin on her heavily made-up face. "When Fang took me to go skinny dippin' here a couple weeks ago," was her victorious answer.

That news hit home, hard. My eyes – I was really starting to feel bad for them – almost dropped onto the muddy ground below and I had to regulate my breathing before it got too out of hand. Fang was with... her? Really? And skinny dipping, too! Heck, when she jumped in all the water probably splashed out! (Hahahaha, that wasn't nice, she really isn't that fat but it was funny.) And when he could do so much better. Jealously bubbled up in my stomach but I refused to let her see that her pointless words had gotten to me, and that I actually cared what skank Fang hang out with. What really ticked me off was that she'd intentionally tried to make me jealous by using Fang when I had a boyfriend – who was somewhere on the other side of the pond talking with some guy. I just... Ugh, I just wanted to slap the shit out of Maya!

I nodded once, letting her know I'd heard and shrugged casually, although I was practically blazing inside from the hot jealousy that was threatening to make itself seen. But, believe it or not, I had more self-control than that. "Cool," was all I said, and let me tell how well I played the whole not-caring thing. Not very good, thank you very much. "So, how long have you two been dating?" Seriously, did I have to ask? Why yes, yes I did.

It was her turn to stare up at the night. "A couple months before we graduated high school last year," she retorted, smiling to herself. A part of me didn't want to believe her, to think that she was just making this up to his if I liked Fang that way (which I didn't; I've only known him for, like, an hour) and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing me all jealous that the hottest guy I've ever met was taken. But there was a part, deeper down, that insisted that I believe her because she had no reason to lie to me. And, sadly, that side won hands down. "I'm plannin' on gettin' a ring from him soon."

Okay, if I'd have had something to drink right then, I'd have spit it out all over her powdery face, hopefully washing some of it off. But I didn't, so I just decided to freak out in my mind. He was going to marry her? Honestly? Why? I wouldn't even let Ari look at a girl like her. But then it hit me. Boys from the south liked their women different than men in the city, and I was learning that the hard way. I shouldn't even be thinking of Fang in that way; he's my boyfriend's

_cousin_ for crying out loud! I couldn't help the way my mind was so possessive over Fang, though. But I could stop my seething anger and jealousy from leaking out and displaying themselves on the ground in front of us. I was good at that, at least.

"That's great," I said cumbersomely, grabbing my pole from where I'd lain it down on the tailgate. I just wanted to be away from her at the moment. I needed to get away before I gave in to my anger and smashed her head in like I would've done to any other girl who was talking about Dylan. Yeah, I'm a fierce girlfriend, but what's mine is mine. But I don't really understand why I wanted to bash her head in when I don't even know Fang. That just stumped me. "I'm gonna go. Guess I'll see you around, uh, Maya." I almost choked on her name, and I knew she'd heard the slight hesitation in my voice as I said her name. And the smile on her face made me even more angry. I waved and smiled politely as I walked off, watching the ground intently while I amateurishly navigated through the tall, wheat-color grass that was growing around the bank of the pond.

Where to go. I could sit by Ari, but Holden would just tick me off and I'd end up leaving. I was so ticked off with Dylan that I didn't even want to look at him. I liked Angel well enough, and I wouldn't mind fishing with her or Ratchet, but I knew Kate would spill some of my secrets if I were over there. Iggy and Gazzy seemed to like me, but that note I saw them with earlier was a little – well, weird. I didn't really know anyone else, so I decided to try my luck with Fang. And no, you crazy people, I wasn't going over there just to prove to Maya that I could. Wait, maybe I was...

I stumped up the hill, my unusual anger and jealousy toward Maya causing my footsteps to sink further into the mud as I trudged up the hill. People gave me odd looks, and I didn't even flip them off like I normally would. Add my anger to Maya the skank, me forgetting to bait my hook, me trying to spin around quickly on my heel so that I looked hot with my hair flowing out behind me, the slippery, soggy ground beneath my feet, and some nimrod trying to be Sam Bradford by attempting to throw a football across the large pond but only succeeding in hitting me in the face knocked me off balance and I started to fall down, down, down.

And guess where I ended up? Yeah, you're right; in the mother effing pond! My night was _not _going well.

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_Okay, that was longer than I thought and I'm happy! Also, my cousin recently totaled my Mom's (soon-to-be mine in three years) truck and we're getting a new one, hopefully the Dodge Mega-cab that my Dad's been practically drooling over for the past month. And my cousin isn't hurt, so don't worry. She just has whiplash, and when she went to the hospital she got asked out by a Doc. Yeah I busted a gut laughing at that. _

_Anyway, I said that the story was going to be longer than I'd originally planned because I'm doing it over more than one song now, but Kick It In The Sticks is still the main one. Here's the current list:_

_**Kick It In The Sticks – Brantley Gilbert **_

_**Backwoods – Justin Moore**_

_**Hell On Wheels – Brantley Gilbert**_

_**Country Must Be Country Wide – Brantley Gilbert **_

_**What Was I Thinking? – Dierks Bentley **_

_**How I Got To Be This Way – Justin Moore **_

_**I Love This Bar – Toby Keith **_

_**Take It Outside – Brantley Gilbert**_

_**My Kinda Party – Jason Aldean (Brantley Gilbert wrote it lol)**_

_**Days Like These – Jason Aldean **_

_**A Country Boys World – Jason Aldean **_

_**Bending The Rules and Breaking The Law – Brantley Gilbert **_

_**That Was Us – Justin McBride **_

_That's all I've got so far, and in case you haven't figured it out yet I totally love Brantley Gilbert and Jason Aldean! They're like my favorites! And if you want to know how those songs are gonna contribute to this story, go listen to them and watch the video if you need to. They're all great songs! No lie!_

_P.S. I got 8 reviews for my 1ST chapter and do you know how psyched I was? I was literally making my friend read everything that you guys sent me. I am sooo happy, and I wish we could really send virtual cookies cuz all y'all deserve one! 3 Don't stop with the reviews I really need suggestions on how to make my story better and and improve my writing. I like love you guys!_

_~ SoonerMagic _


	4. Chapter 4

_**READ! **Okay, it's a long story but here goes. I don't have Internet at home so I can't upload on the weekends only on the weekdays and just bear with me here. You'll get your story I can promise you that cuz I've worked too darn hard on this and I am not a quitter. So just don't freak if I don't update on the weekends okay? Srry for not updating! Lots of love, SoonerMagic. _

_P.S. I'm already thinking about writing a sequel to this story, and it's gonna be on spring break when Fang takes Max and the others to Las Vegas, also known as Sin City pplz! And it'll be kinda like the Hangover cuz they have to get Star and Ratchet back in time for their wedding but they're missing someone! Plz review and tell me if you think it's worth writing and I'll give it a shot okay?_

_P.P.S. The reason Max is asking a lot if questions is because she's confused at her emotions toward both Fang and Dylan, but in the end they'll become clear. So that's why. _

_**Disclaimer**: Still don't own anything. Not even the idea of Max falling into the pond an amazing reviewer gave me that idea and I liked it, also it was a great way to introduce Maya and the tension between her and Max. Anyway on with the story. _

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You know that sickening, gut-churning feeling you get when you know you're falling? It's like you're aware of the fact that you're falling, and you have time to think _Oh dear Lord, here I go! _before you hit the ground. Or, in my case, the water. The cold, soggy, slippery, dirty water.

Okay, I'm a star athlete at swimming back in Tulsa, which means I can swim extremely well. But when anyone is suddenly hurled into a body of water, you're first instinct is to hold your breath and not even worry about swimming to the top. Which I did. But I was so angry at myself, at Maya, and the Sam Bradford wannabe that I forgot about all my training and just thrashed around a while till I realized that the reason I wasn't rising was because I was _sitting _on the pond floor.

So you can't even imagine how embarrassed I was when I popped my head out from the water and found that everyone was laughing at me – even my _boyfriend_! Wait, did I say embarrassed? I meant pissed off! He didn't even have the decency to aid his girlfriend as she struggled with her fashionable Aeropostle shirt and jeans and trying to stand up and walk out. Heck, even Fang was busting a gut laughing; he was leaning up against a tree, his dog attacking him as he tried – and failed – to catch his breath.

Fuming, my cheeks burning from rage, I hauled myself out, having to grab onto a low-hanging tree limb as my black sneakers slipped on the slimy, slippery floor of the pond. I wordlessly sent up a prayer thanking God for making me take my phone out of my back pocket. But I wasn't too pleased with the fact that my expensive jeans and shirt was ruined, not mention I thought I had a stick jammed up into my underwear. Yeah, talk about uncomfortable.

Oh, and did I mention that everyone was freaking laughing their butts off at me? I did? Well, it's important okay? It didn't really bother me that they were laughing; heck, would've been laughing too if I weren't so ticked off at Dylan – and Fang! Even Fang's stupid dog Boomer was laughing. Ugh, why are guys such jerks? Is it, like, a rule or something? And, more importantly, why was I so mad at _Fang_ for not helping me out when it should be my boyfriend's job?

Angrily, I swiped my brown hair out of my face as I stood erect on the sloping bank, my hands on my hips, eagerly scoping Dylan out so I could give him chewing. I saw him attentively walking from where he sat on top of the hill, having to hold his arms out for balance, and I realized I wouldn't have minded throwing his ass into the pond myself. But, again, my self-control was a little better than that.

I restrained myself from running and attacking Dylan because A) I didn't think I could run in my soaking wet clothes, and B) I was sympathetic enough to not embarrass him by kicking his butt in front of all these people. But that didn't mean I couldn't give him the thrashing of his life.

"What the hell, Dylan?" I asked/screamed in his face, bracing my hands on his shoulders and pushing him away as he tried to help me up the hill. He looked at me innocently, his eyes widening in confusion and question. Jeez, if it was possible, that look made me even more angrier. "Don't give me that look, Dylan. You know exactly what you did." I could see everyone staring amusedly at us, but I didn't care. I just wanted to change and go home. I didn't want to stay in this terrible place any longer.

"And what exactly did I do?" he retorted, crossing his arms as he studied my face keenly, probably trying to decipher the meaning of my hateful words. He didn't even half to try; I would tell him without his asking or anything.

"Nothing! That's what you did!" I screamed at him, throwing my arms in the air, part from my raging frustration and part because I didn't really want to break his nose. I'll just let my words say what I want to do. "You did absolutely nothing! Hello, I'm your girlfriend, right? You're supposed to help me learn how to fish, not drop it on your cousin or his brother. You're supposed to have patience with me and fish with me. You're supposed to make sure I don't fall into the freaking pond. And if I did, you're supposed to help me out of it. Not stand there and laugh!" I stopped and took a deep breath, wanting fresh oxygen in my lungs before I gave the final blow. "And you didn't do any of that. You're a lousy boyfriend."

Without giving him time to respond or even open his mouth, I walked passed him, banging his shoulder with mine irritatedly, and stomped off toward Fang's truck. People were openly staring at me, and this one guy went to lengths such as to attempt conversation with me. I gave him a death glare, and snarled, "Shut the hell up and get out of my way." He did, staring at me in shock, as if he were afraid I'd give him a blow to his ego too. I was tempted to, but I didn't really feel up to it.

Dang, was I coldhearted or what? But I didn't care. Dylan needed that as much as I needed to give it to him. No, we're not over but we're not as perfect as we used to be, either. I just needed some time to cool down, and Dylan respected that, because he knew that if he bothered me, I wouldn't hold back the need to bash his face in.

I received multiple looks from everyone near and around the pond, some sympathetic and shocked, others amused and entertained. I just stuck my head in the air and trudged on through the sludge, though I was stumbling like mad. At this point, I couldn't care less about my reputation or what the people here thought of me.

The Sam Bradford wannabe jogged toward me, having to hold his hat on his head as his black boots squished in the mud. He stopped, a sorrowful and concerned expression on his mocha-colored face. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry," he drawled, causing me to inwardly freak out about being called ma'am. Jeez, did I look like I was thirty something? No, thank you very much! "Are you alright?"

Comprehending that he hadn't heard my little chat with Dylan, I smiled as reassuringly as I possibly could. "Yeah, I'm good," I replied, and he looked visibly relieved, his tense face and body instantly relaxing. "Besides, I really needed to cool off." This brought a hearty laugh from him, and I smiled half-heartedly at him.

"My name's Darren, and I'm guessin' you're Max?" he said and I nodded. "Well, I'm real sorry 'bout that, and if you need anything I'm playin' football over there with some guys." He jerked a thumb behind him, and I could just barely see the outline of several guys as they threw a football back and forth, trying to see who could catch it the fastest.

I nodded in appreciation and understanding, though I didn't think I'd need anything. It was nice of him to offer, and his politeness even seemed to cool my livid temper. I felt an amused smile cross my face, but I was still beyond ticked off at Dylan, and even Fang. It was just nice to know that not _all _guys are jerks.

I reached the truck and grabbed my phone, unlocking it as I walked toward the driver side door. "I've got some extra clothes if you want to change outta them wet ones," a voice said behind me, and I almost dropped my phone in my surprised state. I spun around and saw none other than my lousy boyfriend's cousin Fang standing there, a half smile on his handsome face.

I felt my heart instantly start to race in my chest, and my anger toward him dissipated somewhat. Although my mind still felt like jelly whenever he was near. "Uh, sure. Why not?" I agreed, stepping aside as he pulled the door open. He leaned over the console and fiddled with something in the backseat. The whole time he was doing this I couldn't restrain myself from goggling at his beautiful, luscious butt. I bet it could fit in the palm of my hands perfectly... And what was I thinking? My face immediately started to redden, and my heart was beating impossibly harder against my ribcage, no doubt about to jump from my chest. I really had to get this thing under control.

Fang pushed away from the truck, holding a pair of light blue Levis and a white Hanes T-shirt. He saw me eyeing the clothes, and said, "The shirt's mine, so I know it'll fit," he said, and I inwardly rejoiced about wearing his shirt. I think that him letting me wear his shirt made up for him not teaching me to fish or helping me from the cool water. "But the jeans are Maya's, and they might be a little too short but they'll do."

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh. Did he have to say it? Did he really have to do it? My anger soared and my cheeks reddened in vexation instead of embarrassment. Why in the world would I want to wear that chick's pants? I'd much rather wear my wet jeans. Did he even have to have a pair of the skank's jeans? Heck, they were probably getting a little too heated one night in the backseat and shed their clothes and Maya probably forgot to grab her jeans. Same way with his shirt. Why would I want to wear something that was only thrown off so they could get closer to each other?

So what do I do? I decline his offer as nicely as possible. "Nah, that's okay," I interjected, waving it off with a flick of my wrist. I didn't want to wear Maya's clothes even though mine were caked in mud and I was shivering from the wetness. "I'll just wind-dry." I tried to sound convincing, I really did. But, God forbid, my teeth started to chatter involuntarily, and Fang heard it even though I tried to cover it up.

He sighed impatiently, holding the clothes out even though I had no intention of taking them. "Just take the clothes," he ordered forcefully, extending the clothes out, practically begging me to take them in his own special way. "It ain't like they're gonna bite." Did he think he was being cute? I said no!

I uneasily shook my head, using the tips of my fingers to push his hand down. Bad freaking idea! Just the simpleness of that contact sent an electric current through my fingers and up my entire body, leaving me breathless and begging for more. "I'll be fine. I'll dry quick enough." And, yet again, my voice was cracked by a shiver that Fang effortlessly caught.

"Listen, just take the clothes. They're clean, I swear," he commanded, his southern accented voice sounding calm even though I was acting like a spoiled brat. "It won't hurt you, and I know Dylan would want you dry before you catch a cold." He was so considerate. Ugh, it made me sick! And yet I wanted more... much more.

"Fine," I gave in reluctantly, grabbing the clothes out of his hands. I studied the clothes; they were relatively clean, although they were wrinkled awfully. It was either wear these unfashionable, creased clothes or freeze my butt off. I went with the first option. And then came the real problem. How was I supposed to change? Awkwardly, fighting madly to keep the blush down, I asked, "Uh, how am I going to change?" Oh God!

At this, Fang smiled and motioned at the truck, the door still hanging open. "Right in there," he said, grinning a sly smile, which was the only thing I could see because of his hat and the fact that the full moon was shadowing his amazing face. Uneasily, I grabbed the door frame and hoisted myself in, uncertainly leaning back against the gray padded seat. "Don't freak. I'll make sure no one sees you, okay?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Okay," I said, feigning nonchalance. I was literally freaking out – again – wondering if, by making sure no one could see me, he would be guarding the truck, which meant that he could sneak a glance at me without my knowing. But an uncanny part of me knew he wouldn't. It was like I knew him already. He had respect, and he was more discreet than to peep in on a girl while she was changing. Somehow, I knew that, and I didn't really understand why. "Oh, and Fang? Thanks, thanks a lot."

In response, he grinned and shut the door as I removed my shoes. I saw him walk around the truck and sit down on the tailgate, his left leg drawn up with an arm laying haphazardly across it. Fang was smarter than I'd first given him credit for; he had enough respect for himself to not watch me as I changed. And also, he was making sure no one else saw me either. I liked him for that. In fact, I sorta liked him a lot.

Okay, time to get out of these dripping clothes before I completely soaked Fang's seat. Getting out of my shirt was the easy part; all I had to do was reach down and pull it up over my head. I was silently congratulating myself on wearing a camisole that matched my bra – which was a light blue with hot pink stripes – and pulled Fang's shirt over my head. His scent filled my nostrils and I breathed in heavily, sighing contentedly as his smell of leather and Axe surrounded me in the truck. I wonder if he'd let me keep this shirt?

Nothing in the world is easy. Even the simplest of tasks have something weirdly hard rolled into it. In my case, it was trying to pull off my soaking wet jeans and climb into Maya's warm, ripped, honeysuckle smelling ones. It really shouldn't have been hard to quickly change pants, but I had a freaking steering wheel in my dang way, and I couldn't exactly pull my jeans off because they were glued to my body from the wetness. Not to mention that, when I reached down to try to tug them off, I ended up banging my head hard on the wheel and screaming some loud, colorful words.

But, since I was an A-average student, I figured out a way to shrug into the jeans without injuring myself or my pride any further. Just turn to where your back is pressed up against the door, lay your legs over the console, and do pretty much every gymnastics move you know to try to get your jeans off. Fortunately, my jeans came off easier than I'd thought. Unfortunately, getting Maya's jeans on was harder than I'd thought. I made a couple wild animal noises and screamed out swear words – even stumped my toe, and that hurt like a moe foe – but I finally succeeded in getting them on.

I promise you this, if I would have walked passed this truck while someone was struggling to get into a pair of jeans and screaming, I would've thought a couple were getting freaky in the backseat. Which is probably what most people thought when they saw the truck rocking back and forth. And poor Fang, sitting on the tailgate and having to explain to people what was happening.

Giving myself a mental triumphant slap on the back, I grabbed my sneakers from the floorboard and pushed open the door, jumping down in my green-socked feet. Pulling my damp hair over my left shoulder, I slowly walked to where Fang was sitting on the tailgate. When he saw me, he dazedly moved over and gave me enough room to sit down beside him.

Ignoring the way my chest cramped up when my leg gently rubbed his, I announced, "Nice night." Could I possibly come up with anything other than _nice night_? Was it that hard to come up with something wittier than that? Ugh, I just can't explain what Fang does to me! Imagine the adrenaline rush of skydiving for the first time, and then multiply that by, like, ten and you've got a _taste _of what happens. And the kicker? I haven't even known him for two hours yet, and it was still early. I was surprised I hadn't had a heart attack yet.

I could just barely glimpse at Fang's face, shadowed by the moon and his hat, and I saw him squint as he strained his neck to look at something beyond the small hill. "Yeah," he responded, though I could tell he wasn't really paying attention. Whatever was by the hill had his undivided attention. And you know what? I wanted it.

Curiously, I edged closer and strained my neck so I could perhaps catch a glimpse of what he was so attentively staring at. I heard a faint sound of an engine, and I wondered which one of his friends was coming. "What are you –" I wasn't able to finish my sentence because, upon seeing a faint light of a headlight, and then they started to multiply. Like, freaking fast.

"Shit!" Fang yelled, drawing the word out longer than necessary and jumping from the truck, slipping in the mud slightly as he ran around the side of the pond at breakneck speed, yelling as he did so. "Get out! C'mon guys, get a move on. The Waylons are here!"

He was telling everyone to pack up and get back over the fence, and after giving him strange, unusual looks they did so. And what did I do? Well, I just sat there and stared stupidly at everyone, totally forgetting about the wet sneakers in my hand, as they ran toward the barbwire fence that was at least a football field length's away. I didn't understand. Who were the Waylons, and if this was Fang's land, why was he running? Wait, _was_ this his land? God, I hoped so because I didn't plan on getting a police record till I was at least twenty-one.

And why was he running around like a chicken with its head cut off? What was the problem? But, I couldn't get this one thought out of my mind as he pushed someone in front of him: _God, he's even hot when he's running. _There was seriously something wrong with me now.

Also, why was everyone listening to him? Half the people here were older than Fang, and they let him boss them around. It was as if Fang were the undisputed leader of this gang of hillbillies, jocks, cowboys, and bikers. And that just made me like him even more.

Apparently, all the thinking I did took longer than I thought because, by the time I'd finished my little musing, Fang was already running back toward the truck with Iggy, Gazzy, Angel, Nudge, Ari, Dylan, Kate, Ratchet, Star, Maya, and Holden behind him. "Get in the truck, Max!" Both Fang and Dylan yelled at me as I jumped up and scrambled to the back of the truck, my eyes wide in surprise and wonderment. What the crap was happening?

Ratchet, a wild grin on his face, jumped up onto the tailgate and, after aiding Star and Angel in, sat down beside me as Gazzy, Iggy, and Ari jumped in; the others ran to the cab. And, if I wasn't mistaken, Fang gave me a relieved glance as he jumped into the truck. Okay, what the hell was going on?

"Ratchet, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice sounding oddly more determined than my mind was. I was still in that my-mind-is-jelly state of having Fang so close to me, but at least I could still think properly. I think.

Fang started the truck and gassed it, sending me plowing forward but – thankfully – Iggy caught me before I face-planted on the ground. I was so grateful to Iggy that, I swear, I would've kissed him right smack-dab on the lips if my boyfriend and his hot-hot-hot cousin weren't in the cab. "Well, Max, we're runnin' from the Waylons," Ratchet said simply, shrugging as he braced himself against the hump of the wheel for better traction. _Uh, no dip you turd burglar, I want to know why the F we're running, okay? _

"Tell me why we're running!" I screamed at no one in particular, just wanting a freaking explanation as to why I almost fell out of a moving vehicle. Iggy had put a protective arm around my waist to be sure that I didn't fall again, and now I felt him tense up at my shrill voice. Everyone did. I didn't want to scare them; they actually weren't bad people to hang out with, and I liked them even though they'd laughed at me when I'd fallen into the pond. More gently, I said to them, "I'm sorry, I just want to know why we're running. Okay?"

They relaxed visibly at my kinder tone, and Star was the one who supplied the info this time. "Well, the Waylons don't allow us to fish in that pond, so we have to sneak over here," she retorted, her eyes darting between me and the growing headlights that were almost passed the hill now.

Wait. I thought Fang and his family owned this land? They did, didn't they? "Doesn't Fang own this?" I asked confusedly, gesturing to the pasture with my arm. I had no idea what I'd do to him if he didn't. Probably go off on him like I had Dylan. But something told me that that wouldn't sit right with Fang.

Iggy was the one who answered. "You see, Fang's Daddy had an accident 'bout two years ago and he couldn't work. He needed some money 'cause we couldn't do all the work by ourselves and go to school at the same time. So Joe, Fang's Daddy, sold a few acres of the land to the Waylons so he had some money."

Wow. I had no idea. I suddenly felt so, so sorry Fang and his family; nobody should have to go through that. They'd tried to run a 700-acre farm and go to school at the same time. Yeah, it may sound like a piece of cake to you, but understand this, it's harder than you think to run a farm. You have to make sure the animals are fed, the equipment's planted properly in a dry place, take care of the yard and house, haul hay, plant the gardens, and numerous other things. How did I know? Because I watch a lot of TV, and my favorites are all westerns.

So I decided to let it go. I may not know Fang that well, but I knew this: he wouldn't want anyone suffering from something he did. He was smart enough to take control of his actions, and that right there was one of a kind. You don't find people like that often. People like Fang are rare.

"Most of the time, when we're over here and the Waylons come, Fang stays and talks with 'em," Angel announced, and I looked at her in her deep blue eyes. "Fang ain't a coward, he stands up for himself and others around him. But he's also not stupid. The Waylons are bad news, and he doesn't want anyone payin' for somethin' he did."

By the time she was finished talking, Fang was rapidly pulling through the open gate and yelling for someone to shut it. A guy with dark red hair and tanned skin ran up and yanked the gate shut, latching it with a chain he found on the ground. I didn't even have time to register what Angel said because a dozen four-wheelers pulled up beside the barbwire fence, slinging mud on everyone as they slammed on the brakes. Guess these were the Waylons. Dumb S.. Now I'd ruined Fang's shirt!

"What the hell you doin' on my place, _Hawthorne_?" some guy, about twenty-one with shaggy chestnut hair and hazel eyes, demanded of Fang as he stepped from the truck with a determined glow to his face that scared the shiznet out of me. The way the guy said Hawthorne, like it burned his tongue just to say it, had me wondering exactly what happened between Fang and the guy. And I was intent on finding out.

The acrid smell of booze and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils, and I forced myself not to vomit as I aided Angel in jumping from the truck. The guy who'd yelled hadn't taken his big eyes off Fang till he was beside the tailgate where everyone was standing. All of the people that were surrounding the truck had crossed their arms and resorted to glaring angrily at the twenty or so people that were gathering around the barbwire fence. I went with the flow and copied their posture.

"Wasn't on your place, Sam," Fang replied evenly, and I looked up to decipher the meaning of his words. He was ticked off, but he didn't let his anger control him. Hmm, that's a nice virtue; I should really work on it. "This is our side of the barbwire." When he said _barbwire_, it sounded like _barb-war. _Gotta love the accent, peoples.

"Whatever, man. We saw the lights," Sam threw back, his voice taking on an eerie tone, as if he'd come over the fence any second and attack Fang. I knew Fang would win, though, because he had more friends than anyone I've ever met. I already knew I hated Sam with my entire being.

"Come off it, dumbass," Fang replied back, and several people started to chuckle at his insult to Sam. "Are you sure you saw lights? Or are you just comin' down from that hangover you had last night? Really dude, learn how to keep the moonshine down." Everyone laughed at this, even me.

"You better watch what you say, Hawthorne. I got connections," Sam retorted, and Fang snorted. Sam's freaky, bright eyes moved from Fang and onto me. I sucked in a sharp breath and felt more than saw everyone inch closer to me. He looked at me hungrily, drinking me in. First my face, then my chest, stomach, legs. He licked his lips wetly, as if he were thinking about what he'd do to me if he got me alone. Pervert Alert! I shivered and unconsciously inched closer to Fang, who Dylan was standing beside. "Who's that?"

Fang, Dylan, and the rest of the guys stepped up, prepared to defend me if necessary, though I had no idea why. I was perfectly capable of defending myself, thank you very much. "Don't even think about it, Sam," Iggy said, wrapping a brotherly arm around my shoulders. I could already tell that Iggy and I would be good friends by the end of the night. "You touch her, and you'd better find a new face 'cause I'm gonna mess that one up." Okay, I had to laugh at that.

Dylan, bless his heart, decided to act tough too, and he didn't do half bad. "Yeah, man. She's mine," he said, and I mentally called him a sexist pig. "You remember me, right? Dylan Batcheldar, the one that kicked your ass at football a few years back? I'm not afraid to do it again."

Sam, seeing that he was outnumbered three to one, backed off and sat back on his four-wheeler. "Whatever, man. Didn't know you were back," he said, and I could practically feel the cowardice seeping from his pores. Jeez, grow some balls! "Didn't know you could bag a chick that hot."

Oh, no he did not just say that! I was not taking this crap from some retard who thinks he can get with me just because I'm somewhat pretty. No, I wasn't that sleazy. Beyond pissed, I eased myself away from Iggy's arms and, ignoring the incredulous looks I received from everyones, smiled alluringly as I motioned with my index finger for Sam to come over. "Come here, sugar," I drawled, forcing my voice to sound as flirtatious as possible while feigning a southern accent. And, not to sound too full of myself, I did a dang good job.

Anger and rage were probably seeping from my every pore and crevasse of my body. But I used Fang's example and controlled my anger before I done anything rash. Of course, rash isn't the correct word to describe what I was about to do to Sam.

Sam smiled brightly, triumphant in his victory over Dylan, as he slouched his way over and stopped one foot in front of me. Up this close, I could see that he wasn't all that bad looking, but his breath smelled like something had crawled up in him and died. Yeah, not pleasant. Controlling my gag-reflexes with much difficulty, I reached my left hand out and let my finger trail slowly down his cheek and across his chest.

But I wasn't here to get in between the sheets with this sleazebag. I was here to stand up for not only myself but for other women around the world that have to deal with men like Sam. And how does a girl like me deal with a problem like Sam?

She pulls back her right fist and lets it go, expertly punching them in the nose, causing it to gush gooey blood and possibly breaking it. And that's exactly what I did.

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_This was longer than I thought it'd be, but I'm okay with that. I thought Max needed a chance to prove that she's just as strong as the boys and knock ole' Sammy a good one! I liked this chapter, I really did it is one of my favorites. Srry if the detail sucked a bit I was freaking out over this storm that was plowing through a town north of us and it had the ability to produce tornados. I freakin' hate them things! And that's the truth. _

_P.S. Have you listened to the songs YET? _

_I'm not a nagger so I won't persuade you to review like other ppl do. But I do like it when my readers hit me up with one! ;P_

_~ SoonerMagic _


	5. Chapter 5

_Happy late Easter folks! Hope you had a good one! And hope you DIDN'T kick it in the sticks like Max and the gang are lol! Tho it'd be fun... I think with me being the country girl and tomboy I am, I ain't doin half bad with the whole city-slicker thing. If you have any suggestions on how I can make it better, hit me up with a review or PM. _

_Anyway, this one's probably gonna be longer than all the others BUT there's gonna be some action and I am proud to say that there'll be a little FAX in the next chapter! But go easy on me cuz I'm not so hot at writing intimate scenes but I think you guys will like it. And there's gonna be some in this chapter too..._

_P.S. The chapters might be a tad slow this week cuz we're doin the end of year tests and we aren't allowed to really do anything after it. But I did say MIGHT. It depends on if I get to go to English or not... Pray that I do!_

_**Disclaimer**: D-D-D-D-Don't O-O-O-O-Own! Wish I did tho!_

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S.O.B. that hurt! I think I broke my freaking hand!

Sam, shocked that I'd hit him, stumbled backward and tripped over his feet, falling to the ground as he screamed painfully and clutched his nose in hopes of stopping the ample amount of blood that was beginning to stain his white cut-off shirt. My eyes wide, I shook my hand, attempting to take away the numbing pain in my knuckles and return the feeling. That blow _had _to have broken his nose, because my knuckles felt like I'd smashed them in.

Everyone was silent for a moment, except for Sam's colorful cursing and ragged breathing. But after they saw that I was okay, they all erupted like a freaking volcano. "Damn!" Ratchet yelled, drawing the word out as if he were singing. He slapped me approvingly on the back so hard it almost knocked the breath from me but I didn't say anything, and I grinned toothily up at him as I fist-bumped him with my left hand.

"You broke his nose!" Star exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug as she laughed at Sam, who was having to be helped up into a standing position. Angel smiled at me and gave me a high five while Gazzy and Iggy were making snide comments as they slapped me on the shoulders.

"You got a killer right hook, Max!" Holden praised me and I smiled at him as Kate hugged me around the neck fast. "I'm glad you've never hit me!" Don't be glad yet, Holden, I might have to knock you the F out by the time the night's over.

Dylan came up and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. "You even had me fooled, Max," he whispered huskily in my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck, sending shivers down my spine. But, I noticed, the feelings he was creating in the pit of my stomach didn't even compare to the feelings Fang had created. And I had no idea why.

After everyone had given me props, I swiveled my head and saw Fang leaning up against the hump of the tire, a lazy, amused smile on his full lips. He saw me watching him and pushed off, coming to stand right in front of me as Dylan released his tight hold on my waist. At that moment, it felt like everyone around us suddenly vanished and it was just the two of us, staring in each other's eyes intensely, light brown meeting dark brown. Do I seriously have to mention the blush that scorched my cheeks?

"You got a nice arm on you," he said, holding his hand out and I took it, firmly wrapping my fingers around his palm as his large hand enveloped my smaller one. I still wouldn't mind if he'd touch me with those beautiful monsters of his. Jeez, I needed to have some sense slapped into me! "You broke his nose."

Pulling my hand away from his, I felt myself shrink under his scrutinizing gaze, and I wondered if he was mad at me for taking matters into my own hands. I didn't intend on breaking his nose; I just wanted the jerk to know that I wasn't the girl he thought I was. Heck, in my opinion, that blockhead deserved it.

"You did a good job," he said, and I swear my smile could probably have lightened the whole city of Tulsa. I liked compliments – who didn't? – but when they came from Fang, they were a million times better. "Next time I'll just let you handle Sam." He grinned at me and I almost melted; he said _next time_! Did that mean I was going to see him again? Why should I care if I saw him again when I already had a super-dandy boyfriend? Gosh, I had no idea but I knew this for sure: I wanted to see Fang again.

"How could you do that?" a girl, who was standing close to Sam and holding a crinkled shirt to his gushing nose, shrieked as she dropped the shirt and tried to jump over the fence. But, sadly, short, leather mini-skirts weren't made for jumping and high-heeled boots weren't the best thing for traction. In other words, she face-planted on the ground.

I do have some dignity, and I respect myself enough to help someone up when they fall. I reached my hand over the fence and attempted to grasp hers to aid her in getting up, but she just smacked my hand away like it was poison. "Don't touch me!" she yelled, and you'd have thought I was trying to kill her.

Uncertainly, I held mu hands up to show I didn't want to hurt her and stepped back a few foot, almost bumping into Ari. "Hey, sorry. I was just trying to help you," I explained, my voice normal, and every one of Sam's little gang stared at me like a giant bomb had just been dropped upon them. "What?"

They continued to stare, not giving any sign that they had any intention to answer. I just stared right back at them. "It's your accent," Gazzy said from beside me, glaring at the Waylons just like I was. What was wrong with my accent? At least I didn't have one of those squeaky, high-pitched voices like Star.

"You ain't from around here, are you?" a boy said, scratching his bleach-blonde head. There was an undercurrent to his heavily-accented voice, and I couldn't place what it was. The others mirrored his posture to a T. "Up north, gotta be."

"Just go," Fang said, coming to stand beside me. It was impossible to miss the death glare he was sending to everyone, especially Sam. "Get up and go, Sam, before I break somethin' else." The way he talked, so murderous and vicious, practically had me shaking in my colorful, lime green socks. I didn't want him getting into trouble over something I'd done.

Sam sat on his four-wheeler and, flipping Fang the bird, started it up. "Bye Fang," a girl with long red hair and blue-green eyes said as she waved provocatively at Fang and jumped onto the back of Sam's ride. Fang rolled his eyes at her but nodded anyway, never being one to be a jerk to a woman. Who the heck was that? And, again, why should I care? Maya should be the one watching Fang, not me.

I watched in anger and bewilderment as all the Waylons revved up their four-wheelers and gassed it in the opposite direction, slinging mud all over us again. I could barely contain myself from yelling to them what I thought of them, using a very wide variety of words. But I knew I'd done enough damage by breaking Sam Waylon's nose. Even if the asshole deserved it.

"Well, that was entertaining," a guy from somewhere off to my left announced, and I heard him slap hands with some other people. Was it really that awesome? "Dylan here's got a feisty one." What a sexist pig. Is there any boy in the world who isn't? If you can give me one true-blue cowboy that doesn't think perverted thoughts all the time, you deserve a billion dollars. Simple as that.

Ari wrapped his arm around my shoulders as he steered me back toward the tailgate. He grabbed my black sneakers and held them out to me. Smiling, I held my right fist out and showed him that it was already starting to swell, not to mention that they were as purple as Nudge's shirt. But hey, I was proud of my battle wound. Ari grinned and motioned for me to stick my foot up, which I did willingly, and he pushed my shoes on before tying them.

"You know, that creep deserved that," Ari announced and I nodded in response, watching Fang and Dylan as they talked about what I had just done. From what I heard, they were debating if I should go to the hospital to check out my hand. I didn't think I needed to go; it hurt, yeah, but I don't think it was broken. I didn't hear a snap or crack or anything, and I could move it slowly. Just bruised and bashed in.

Fang and Dylan finally seemed to agree on something, and they both nodded as they walked toward us as Ari was just finishing up my right sneaker. Dylan smiled at Fang, then me, and everyone else as they crowded around. "Okay, Max just broke Sam Waylon's nose," he announced and everyone started to cheer; I blushed modestly. Dylan looked at Fang, who I hypothesized was going to finish.

"And, to celebrate what she did, we're goin' to the Longbranch Saloon!" Fang announced, and everyone started to cheer again. He smiled, and walked over to the tailgate where I was sitting, holding out his hand so he could help me down. I grinned at him and placed my hand in his, silently freaking out as he pulled me off the truck. "Have you ever drank?"

He didn't let go of my hand, so my mind was a little foggy, but I could form a coherent thought without too much trouble. "Yeah, a little. But I've never gotten drunk," I answered, gazing up at him. I was only eighteen, sheesh! He was a year older; was he an alcoholic? God, I hoped not.

He ruffled my hair, my hand still in his. For some reason, I knew he had no intention of letting go. And I didn't mind. "They sell other stuff besides beer and alcohol, Max," he retorted, smiling as he took his hat off and plopped it on my head. It fit perfectly, and it didn't even bother me that it was wet with sweat and was probably giving me a bad case of hat-hair. "My new drinkin' buddy."

I rolled my eyes at this as some people got into their vehicles and drove off toward the Longbranch Saloon, where it was located I had no idea. It sounded like a good place, I guess. But I didn't really feel up to drinking right now. I was only going because of Fang, and I won't try to deny that fact.

"Who are you riding with, Max?" Dylan asked as Fang finally released my hand and sat on the tailgate before tossing the keys to someone as he walked by. I knew who was riding with him, and I didn't feel like talking to Holden or Kate at the moment. I'll just settle for Fang and his kick ass ride.

"Fang," I replied, shrugging. And no, I wasn't just riding with him because I was attracted to him; I actually liked his friends. And he had an amazing freaking car. Those were the reasons.

Dylan looked at Fang for approval, and he nodded that it was okay. Dylan gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before whistling to Holden and a few others that he was leaving. I didn't even feel any remorse in the pit of my stomach as I watched him walk off toward his truck. But I did feel something as Fang smiled down at me. I wonder why.

"Ready?" he asked and I nodded. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders – did he want to see me spazz out on the ground? – he called to the others that were riding with us, "Hey, let's roll." He turned and walked me toward his gorgeous Challenger, and I couldn't stop myself from goggling at the way it shown brightly in the moonlight. If it were possible, this car made Fang even more hotter.

"I call shotgun!" Iggy yelled as he raced passed us, slipping everywhere in his boots and kicking up mud. I rolled my eyes again – from the small amount of time I've spent with Iggy I could tell there was something odd about him – and unconsciously leaned against Fang. He was so warm, like he had a built-in fire place, and he smelled so magnificent. I couldn't get enough of him. I just hoped that what I was feeling for him was friendship and nothing else, though I couldn't be certain.

The others followed Iggy in, practically diving into the classic car as they laughed like crazy. Even Ari, and it's been a long time since I've seen him this happy, this carefree. And I wanted him to stay that way. Fang rounded the car, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders, and opened the door. Smiling down at me, he gestured with his free hand and said, "Ladies first." He's such a cheese ball. But I smiled and got in anyway.

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Is it wrong for my heart to race deliriously in my chest when my leg was brushing up against Fang's when I was dating his cousin? And if it was, am I supposed to tell somebody? What am I supposed to do?

Well, I'll tell you what I did do. I scooted as close to Iggy as possible without causing him to think anything, and hyperventilated in my mind when Fang took those sharp curves that resulted in everyone sliding to either side. And do you how many freaking corners there are in Monroe? Like a thousand. And every time Fang turned I'd practically end up on either his or Iggy's lap.

"Could you take it a little easier on the hairpin turns, please?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was scared to death. Which I freaking was. It's not everyday that I ride with someone as crazy and wild as Fang. But, I had to admit, I liked the closeness the hairpin turns provided for Fang and I, even though I shouldn't.

He smirked evilly down at me as Iggy reached across me to fiddle with the blaring radio, turning it to a different station that played country music. "I thought you liked to go fast," he retorted, and – correct me if I'm wrong – it sounded slightly seductive, like he meant it in a different way. "But we'll go slow if you want to." Does anyone else besides me have the feeling that he _wasn't _just talking about driving? I sure as hell did.

Abruptly, a 1972 light blue Camero pulled up alongside us in the other lane and the driver revved the engine. Fang's window was already down, so all I had to do was lean up and see the passenger of the Camero. The dude had on one of those letterman jackets and his dark brown hair was cut short. "Yo, let's go," the guy ordered, flinging his wrist in front of him.

Fang looked down at me, then in the review mirror at my brother and Nudge. He shook his head no, shrugging. "Don't feel like it, man," he explained as he slowed down a bit, forcing the Camero to do the same. What was going on? Did they want to race? Was Fang going to race? "Car's too full." Seven people shoved into a car that could barely fit four? It wasn't too full; it was too mother effin' small!

"Dude, let's go," the driver said, and I could tell that Fang was slowly losing patience with these jocks. Either that or he was thinking about racing. "One little race won't hurt you." Was he seriously trying to persuade Fang into racing? And was Fang really freakin' considering racing while I was in this car?

I swear, I've never had any luck in my whole freaking life. "Fine," Fang said, pushing down slowly on the gas. Oh God, I'd better buckle up. "We start off at that old bridge passed Reed's house, got it?" Why was he doing this to me? I didn't want to die, and besides, wasn't drag racing, like, illegal? If it isn't it should be.

The jocks cackled in that way they had, and the driver gassed it to where he was in front of Fang. "Are you seriously going to race those idiots?" I demanded of Fang as exceeded the speed limit of 65 mph by, like, thirty. Mama Mia, I hope this car had great brakes.

Fang swiveled his head and looked at me, pleasure lining his features. "Why not?" he responded with a question, which just really ticked me off because I had no answer. He saw the obvious distress on my face, which I didn't even try to hide, and his face immediately softened. "Hey, nothin' will happen, okay? I promise. I'm the best driver in these parts, Max." I visibly relaxed, as did Ari and Nudge in the backseat. He smiled softly and grabbed his hat from my head. I looked at him in question and he shrugged, saying, "It's my lucky hat."

"And Max?" Iggy said, gaining my attention as the Camero in front of use came to a sudden halt. "Don't sweat it. We've all been with Fang at least once when he's raced, and he's only ever crashed once. Okay, that's a lie. He's crashed about five, six, seven times. But he's still the best driver." That was Iggy, always one to be optimistic.

Do these people intentionally want me to have a stroke? Is it too much to just go to a bar and have a couple beers? Was it a rule that you had to freaking drag race? He could've said no like a sensible man would have, like Dylan would have. But he didn't. Was he trying to seem cute, showing out for Ari, Nudge, and me? Dylan wouldn't have put us or anyone in danger like Fang was. Dylan was too nice, too much of a –_ sissy_ – to do anything such as drag race. He would've been too scared of the consequences. He thinks things through way too much.

Fang, on the other hand, didn't mind racing at ten o'clock at night, and, with a start, it registered in my mind that I liked this. Liked the adrenaline it was shooting through my veins; the way it made my stomach do flip-flops; the way it made my heart almost beat from my chest. It was like the greatest drug ever, and I was a dopey laying my hands on it for the first time. Indescribable, that's what it was. And I loved it.

Fang pulled up beside the Camero in the other lane, leaning inward so he could see the driver. "Where we racin' to, Hendricks?" he asked, using the guy's last name I guess. Gah, I couldn't believe he was going through with this! He did know that he had a choice, right?

"Longbranch ain't far," Hendricks answered, shrugging as he revved his engine. Fang laughed and did the same. "On the count of three, man, and we go. Ready?" Uh, no? Does my opinion count?

"Wait!" Iggy interjected, waving his hand out the window at Hendricks. The guy looked at him questioningly, waiting for Iggy to continue. "Is it one, two, three, go or one, two, three and then we go?" What kind of dumbass asks a question like that? And, more importantly, what kind of dumbass comes up with a question like that? Only Iggy.

Hendricks cracked a smile at Iggy and rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "One, two three, go, Ig," he answered, still laughing at Iggy's incredulous question. Then he became serious, and I knew what was coming. "Ready?" In response, Fang revved his engine like a pro. Which, I assumed, he was. Hendricks smirked at Fang's actions. "Okay. One... two... three... Go!"

Fang slammed his foot down on the gas and we zoomed ahead like a bat out of hell, Hendricks and his buddies not far behind. I was scared, to say in the least, about what could happen. I was almost certain that Fang hadn't had anything to drink, but who's to say he'd already hit the whiskey by the time I'd arrived?

In my frightened and shocked state, I flung my right arm over my face and the other across my chest, as I was protecting myself from the shattered glass that resulted in most wrecks. Iggy, laughing like this was the funniest thing in the world, grabbed my arm and forcefully removed it from my face, insisting that I watch, which I didn't want to. I didn't want to see Fang crash or see the other people crash, or, heck, I didn't want to see the possible people we'd meet since we were in the opposite lane.

"C'mon, Max," Iggy coaxed thoughtfully, but I didn't budge. I just sat there stiffly, smashed in between Iggy and the crazy-ass Fang, refusing to open my eyes and see the inevitable impact that was bound to happen. I was stubborn like that.

"Max, open your eyes!" Ari ordered as he reached over the seat and tried to peel my eyes open with his hands. He only succeeded in poking me right in the eye. I hissed in pain at my watery eye, and pushed him off robustly, throwing him back against the seat. I didn't have time to worry about my possible blindness at a moment like this. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But it really isn't that bad."

_That's your opinion, _I thought because I didn't feel like talking, and felt myself jerk to the left as Fang took a quick, sharp curve. I couldn't describe the terror – the horror – that was coursing through my veins at that instant when Fang turned. Like I was watching the scariest movie ever made while being brutally haunted by one of my dead, angry ancestors. That was the thought that popped into my mind, at least. I desperately prayed to the Good Lord to not let Fang crash and help me survive the night with this wild cowboy. I sure hope He heard.

"Yeah, Max," Fang cooed, taking my hand as he pushed down impossibly harder on the gas to try to pass Hendricks and swerve into the other lane. But Hendricks was having none of it. Every time that Fang sped up, he did too, and it left me wondering what had happened between these two country boys. I was so scared that I didn't have it in me to appreciate the fact that Fang had ahold of my hand, and was rubbing soft circles on my palm with his thumb. The only thing I thought was that Fang was driving with just one hand. "Open your eyes for me."

It's hard enough to resist Dylan when he does his whole Bambi-eyes facade with me, so you can't even imagine how freaking hard it was for me to withstand the electricity that Fang's pleading, sexy voice was transmitting throughout my entire body as he petitioned me to open my eyes. Which I did, against my better judgement. Because when I opened my eyes, I saw a 1997 Chevy Malibu speeding toward us, the horn blaring shrilly from the half mile it was away from us, and I practically jumped into Iggy's lap.

An almost indescribable fear exploded throughout my body, and my heart rate accelerated to the point where I thought I'd have a heart-attack. My eyes literally about burst from their sockets, and I could hardly draw in a breath as I tried to not hyperventilate, so I was pretty much gasping like a fish out of water. I drew my legs up in the seat and wrapped my arms around myself as if that'd protect me from the crash that I knew was going to happen.

What would you do if you were having a drag race in the middle of the freaking highway when you were in the wrong lane and there was a car speeding toward you? I have on idea what you'd do, but this is what I did: I screamed. I screamed at the top of my lungs as the Malibu got alarmingly closer by the second. But I didn't just scream, I also yelled a name, Fang's name. "Fang!"

Nudge spazzed out in the backseat, bursting into tears as she screamed her head off, and Ari was wretchedly trying to console her while keeping his on panic in check. Angel was hiding her face in Gazzy shoulder, and he had his arms wrapped around her brotherly, squeezing her slim frame to his stronger, leaner one. Heck, even Iggy was about to dig his nails in the dash as his face took on a distressed look. Hendricks and his buddies were madly motioning for Fang to get behind them or something, and I saw that their anguish was genuine. The only one that wasn't freaking out was Fang, and I had no effing idea why. I felt another scream begin in my throat, but I choked it down before my fear could force it from me. I think Fang got an ear full from my first one.

Fang was caught on trying to gun it and cut Hendricks off or slowing down so he could get behind him and avoid the wreck. I'd have gone with the latter, but Fang is more daring than I am. So he tried to gas it, just barely pulling ahead of the Camero. But the Malibu wasn't going to slow down, and Fang couldn't pass Hendricks without colliding with the car in front of us. So there was only one thing to do.

He slammed on the brakes so hard that Ari flew and bashed his head against mine before I flew frontward and banged my head on the dashboard. Fang came to a complete stop in the middle of the road, Hendricks swiftly speeding down passed us, and he gunned it quickly before the Malibu collided with us, spinning into the other lane as he shoved his foot down on the gas again and chased after Hendricks. The Malibu sped passed us, still laying on the horn as the girl who was driving flipped us off so hard it was amazing that she didn't break her finger. In response, Fang honked and I flipped her the bird as well. Just a couple more seconds and we'd have been dead or seriously injured. It felt like my heart had just dropped and landed somewhere in my stomach. And let me tell you, that wasn't the most pleasant feeling I've ever experienced.

Through everything, Fang hadn't let go of my hand and I realized I was clutching onto it tightly, as if it were life or death. Which, technically, it was. "Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it?" Fang asked no one in particular as he pulled alongside Hendricks again, and – get this shiz – he had the nerve to laugh. To freaking _laugh_! I barely controlled my instinct to punch him right square in the jaw. He freaking deserved it!

Instead of punching his lights out – which I would've done if A) he wasn't driving, and B) he hasn't so doggone hot – and just rolled my eyes as I loosened my impenetrable grasp I had on his hand. But when I loosened it, he simply grasped harder. Okay, what was up with that? He'd already tried to kill me, so why the hell was he treating me like I was the object of his affection when it clearly should be Maya? I don't think I'll ever understand the way a boy's brain operates.

Iggy laughed uncomfortably as he groped for his seatbelt and fastened it over him; everyone in the backseat did the same, though Nudge and Angel had to share one. Fang just grinned at our distress, and I silently wondered if he was insane. Well, if he was, he was a hot mad dude.

Hendricks' Camero was quickly coming into the immediate path of the Insane Fang and his Mad Mobil, and so Fang simply jerked the wheel to the left, causing me to thump heads with Iggy as he cursed loudly from Fang's inexcusable driving. I didn't blame him one bit.

"Dang, Hawthorne!" Hendricks exclaimed as Fang pulled alongside them. "Thought you were gonna get smashed to smithereens. We don't have to do this, you know. We can call it a tie and pick up where we left off some other day." Oh, how considerate, he was worried for our safety! Go F yourself, jackass.

Fang smirked determinedly at Hendricks as he leaned forward and I leaned back to give him a clear view. "No way, man," Fang declined stubbornly, his hand never leaving mine as he pulled me closer to him. "Already about died. What's the point in stoppin' when we both know you're goin' to lose?" Oh, burn! Hendricks just got poned like a small donkey! God, Fang was amazing.

I had to admit, Hendricks had a great sense of humor if he didn't get totally ticked at Fang for what he said. I myself would probably have tried to climb out the window, fly using my imaginary bird wings, and peck the shiznet out of him. But that was just me. "Hey, Fang, love the fact that you're dedicated and all, but you about died!" Hendricks screamed back at him. As if he had to point that out to me.

Fang shrugged, squeezing my hand unimaginably harder as he gassed it in response to Hendricks' statement. He was just starting to pull ahead of the light blue Camero, but – God forbid we weren't off the hook yet – an eighteen-wheeler promptly proceeded to turn a corner that was about a mile in front of us, headed straight for us at 70 miles an hour, which, if I wasn't mistaken, was a tad too fast for an eighteen-wheeler to be going at this time of night.

Un-freaking-believable! We'd just narrowly escaped having a head-on collision with a Malibu, and now a damn eighteen-wheeler decides to grace us with its unwanted presence? Was that meant to happen, or was it just bad luck? I had no idea, but I knew this for sure: if we hit that truck, we'd die. Simple as that.

"Seriously? Does this have to happen again!" Nudge screamed/asked as she clutched the back of Fang's seat. This time, my heart bounced up into my throat, preventing me to say anything. But I could still think, and I was thinking, _!#$%%$%^^&&%$#^&**&^^%^*&&%#!#$%^&*! _Okay, that was a lie. Apparently, my fear had reached my mind and I couldn't form a coherent thought to save my freaking life.

But, get this, I knew what Fang would do. I knew he'd either try to pass Hendricks or slam on the brakes and get behind him again. But a small part of my mind knew that, this time, he was going to pass, not stop and get behind Hendricks like a scared dog. I just hoped he succeeded in it this time.

"Fang, do something!" Angel yelled deafeningly, clawing at the backseat with her soft pink nails. My instincts told me to hide my face and just await fate, but I couldn't. My eyes were glued to the eighteen-wheeler as it rumbled on down the highway, lights flashing and horns blaring.

It was liked I'd gone into a mental state, my mind closing in on itself as I stared, fixated, at the two bright lights that were getting closer and closer. I was completely unaware of what was happening when Fang sped up, pulled ahead of Hendricks, everyone screaming in fear and terror as the eighteen-wheeler unyielding approached us at breakneck speed, and when Fang jerked the Challenger to the left, sending me plowing into him as the truck passed and yelled some colorful words at us. I didn't even realized I'd thrown my arms around Fang's neck till we had stopped, slinging gravel at the light blue Camero that was pulling up behind us.

"Now, now, Max," Fang said soothingly, though it had a hint of teasing behind it, and he killed the engine. "I know we have badass chemistry between us, but I don't think Dylan will like it if he saw us. Especially since he's standin' right there." But it didn't stop him as he wrapped his arms around me tight and pulled me onto his lap somewhat. Also, I wanted to know if he was joking about the whole chemistry thing or not, because, whether he or I denied it, it was definitely there.

Embarrassed beyond belief, I pulled back and let out a sigh of relief as I saw Dylan and the others approaching us with smiles on their faces. We'd drag raced, dodged two oncoming vehicles, won the race, and I'd hugged Fang for the first time, whether from happiness or the fact that he was starting to turn me own with his daring personality.

Lordy, I needed a drink. Preferably something with a buzz.

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_Yeah, that wasn't my BEST, but it was okay right? Right! I hope so cuz I'd spent more than 12 hours writing it! 12 hours I am so slow. But it wasn't terrible; more like rushed because I wanted real bad to begin on chapter 6 cuz I know all you FAX fans are gonna love it! ;) But dnt hate me if it's a little unclear, and if you hate Maya like moi here, you'll absolutely love the next chapter. _

_I don't nag, but you can hit me up with a review you know. Even I need inspiration sometimes! :) _

_~ SoonerMagic_


	6. Chapter 6

_This is what all you FAX fans have been waiting for! It's time! And plz don't hate me if it's a tad bit on the sucky side cuz I can't write intimate scenes that well but I'm improving! Anyway, here it is and hit me up with a review about how ya liked it!_

_Okay, the chapters may come a little slow this week cuz we're taking the big tests and I won't be able to update cuz I don't have Internet at home. But I won't forget about y'all so don't worry.:) Also, I'm gonna take a reader's advice and make my paragraphs smaller since they're on the verge of being too long. BUT a paragraph is 4-5 sentences, and that's mainly what mine are, but long. But I'm gonna try! Also, Max is embarrassing herself in front of Fang because she doesn't know how to act around him because of the unexpected feelings she has for him. But it's gonna get better on into it..._

_Holy shiznet! Y'all know that storm that hit Oklahoma/Texas on Easter night? Well, we were driving around to check out the water and stopped by my neighbors place to talk and all of a sudden there's a freaking wall cloud just coming at us. I panicked and ran down the road to my Grandma's house! Omg I don't think I've ever ran that fast in my life! Good news: No one got hurt. The bad: we saw a tornado touch down twice. Freaky. _

_P.S. Have you noticed that I say "Hit me up with a review" a lot? LOL I have. _

_P.P.S Happy late Easter! Hope you had a good one!_

_**Disclaimer**: Do I really have to say it? JP and Brantley Gilbert are both boys; I'm a girl. It's common sense ppl! _

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"I am gonna win against you one of these days, Fang!" Hendricks yelled as he pulled himself out of his car and sat on the windowsill. Wait, what? Are they, like, friends? What the hell was with the race then? "You just wait."

Fang smirked challengingly, finally letting go of my moist hand as he pushed the door open. "Don't count on it, Joey," Fang threw back, a mysterious, almost frightening glint in his dark brown eyes. "You won't ever beat me in that car."

Okay, I was totally lost! Didn't they just drag race down the freaking highway, practically murdering each other with their eyes? What they F was going on! They were like, BFFs now or something. Ugh, I hated not being able to understand the people around me.

I don't mind going fast in a car; in fact, I love it. Going fast is the best thing in the world. But I didn't like drag racing at all. Why? Because the possibility of having a head-on collision with an oncoming car scared the hell out of me. But I was too stubborn to admit it. Also, it just wasn't in my nature to show how weak or scared I was, even if I'd been doing it in front of Fang for about two hours, give or take a couple minutes. And I was really getting tired of it.

So, in an attempt to keep my fear in check, I was attempting to force myself to stop shaking violently as I crawled out behind Iggy. Dylan saw me and jogged toward me, a smile brightening his face. "Hey, babe," Dylan called as Iggy shut the door behind me.

I went smoothly into his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and squeezing as I planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Usually, I'm not one for PDA, but I almost died – twice – and sometimes I just can't help myself.

"God he's crazy!" I exclaimed softly in his ear as I released him, though I kept my arms loosely around his neck. Dylan just smiled at me, clucking my chin as he untangled my arms and backed away.

"Why do you think I like him so much?" he mused, grinning big, and it ticked me off because I had no answer for his question. Don't you hate when people do that? Like you'll say something and they'll counter it with a question that you can't freaking answer? I did.

I rolled my eyes at Dylan's boyish grin and sidestepped him. The Longbranch Saloon was a long, concrete building that was about as wide as a doublewide trailer. The concrete brick was painted an off-white color, and the roof was a deep maroon, kind of like the colors of the Oklahoma Sooners. The main entrance was two screen doors covering a black glass French door. All in all, it wasn't I bad place. I just hoped it had a decent bathroom.

"Bathroom's to the right and down the hall," Fang announced from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. I spun on my heel and saw him smirking down at me, like watching me distress over him almost colliding with two – count them, _two –_ vehicles was the greatest pleasure in the world to him. Seriously? If it was, this guy needed to get out more.

In response to his obnoxiously annoying smirk, I narrowed my eyes and turned toward the entrance, leaving him before he could say anything else that ticked me off. Usually, I was better at controlling my legendary temper finer than I currently was. What was it in Fang that made me so made? And, more important, how did he know that I wanted to visit the little ladies room?

I yanked open the door, ignoring all the abnormal looks I received from the bar-goers. Using my excellent social etiquette, I resisted flipping them the bird and simply settled with a death glare that made my left eye twitch. Has that ever happened to you? Been so mad your eye started to twitch uncontrollably and you looked like you were tweaking out of your mind?

To the right and down the hall. I turned right and saw a hallway about twenty-five feet away. I headed toward it, my wet sneakers squishing on the black and white checkered tile as I glared at anyone who was sending me uncertain glances. Which, if I was right, was about everyone in the whole freaking bar.

The hallway was lightened faintly by a florescent lightbulb, and I saw a brown wooden door at the end, cracked open slightly with the light switched off. Walking slowly, half afraid that some drunk hillbilly was about to jump out from behind a door and attack me, I inched toward the door. With my luck, there was probably two, but they didn't stand a chance against me in my angry mood.

I finally reached the end of the hallway and pushed the door open, groping for the light-switch before I went in. I didn't want to walk into the bathroom and trip over some inanimate object, which most likely would be a drunken, passed-out, greasy hillbilly. I need to be prepared for stuff like that.

I found the switch after about fifteen seconds of searching – it was on the outside – and walked in, locking the door behind me. I didn't have to pee – thank God, because I'd be afraid to sit on that thing – and so I went straight to the sink, clutching its sides as so hard that my knuckles were turning white.

Gah, I was so freaking mad!

I was mad at Dylan for even bringing me here. Mad at Holden just because I can be. Mad at Sam because he was just a perv and I don't deal with them. Mad at Maya because she thought she could make me jealous by saying she and Fang were going to get hitched soon, and my unexpected jealousy. Mad at Ari because he almost poked my eye out and busted my head open. Mad at Nudge because she talks too dang much. Mad at Star because of her squeaky voice and Daisy Duke shorts. Mad at Ratchet because he got the luxury of living with Fang the freaking Greek god. Mad at Kate because she flirts with too many people. Mad at Iggy because, well, I just was. Mad at Gazzy and Angel for the same reason. And, God, words cannot _describe _how pissed I am at Fang...

But I was more mad at myself. Mad that I actually agreed to this; mad that I had to deal with all these crazy people; mad that I'd bashed my knuckles in breaking Sam Waylon's nose; mad that I fell in the pond; and mad... Just freaking mad!

But I was mad at myself for one actual, real reason: I was displeased of the way I had been acting while I was in Fang's presence. It was like I'd been practically drooling over him ever single time he's looked at me, and let's not even get into how much I've embarrassed myself in front of him. There was no way in the world to put into words what he undoubtedly thought of me. And I was sick and tired of it.

Wouldn't you be too, though? Always embarrassing yourself in front of a guy you happen to be attracted to isn't the best thing in the world. It was ridiculous! I was so fed up of blushing madly and having to catch my breath every time I talked to him. What was so good about Fang? Sure he was hot and he had an okay personality, but no one – not even Dylan – has ever made my heart feel like it was about to burst from my chest every time they looked at me like Fang did.

And it was time to stop it. How I would, I had no idea. Maybe forcing my resistance to become stronger or just ignore him. But I would do it, because I was sick with having to deal with this stuff of having my breath catch in my throat, my heart beat race up, etc.

Sighing in satisfaction of my reflection – my hair was a little wet still and windblown but wasn't that the look? – and turned the knob on the faucet, hoping that some cold water would bring me out of my bad mood. Sadly, the icy water spurted up and splashed onto my/Fang's white T-shirt, soaking it so that you could easily see my undershirt. Did that seriously have to happen?

Groaning loudly at my bad luck, I grabbed the paper towel roll and ripped me a piece off, dabbing at my face and shirt. Wiping the water up around the sink, I used my superb basketball skills and did a fantastic jump shot, flipping it with my wrist in the light gray waste basket behind the toilet. I missed, because I hit the lid. Stupid toilet.

Frustrated at my terrible shot, I unlocked the door and yanked it open, ready to defend myself against Fang and his _almost _irresistible charm. But, hey, I was good at resisting stuff, especially when it wasn't chocolate and bacon.

I may have entered that bathroom an eighteen-year-old girl confused at her emotions for her boyfriend's cousin and mad at the world. But I left that bathroom an eighteen-year-old girl who was prepared to fight her random emotions and determined to have as much fun as possible while I was in this town.

But I didn't expect to see Fang lounging against the wall with a glass of something or another in his hand. Was God giving me some sort of impassable test or something? But I wasn't giving up without trying first. So I just squared my shoulders back and stuck my chin the air like I would've done if it were anyone else besides the Greek god that sent my blood pressure up a few dozen notches.

"Hey," he said as I approached him, smiling half-heartedly as he held the glass out. Cautiously, I took it, intently studying its contents before I took a big gulp of it. Water, just water. Ugh, it'd have to do.

"Hey," I said skeptically, lightly touching the glass to my lips and sipping it before I sucked about half of it into my mouth. Pleasant, huh? I honestly didn't give a damn. I'd downed the glass before I spoke again. "Why'd you do that?" I wanted to know; no matter what you may think, it was hard as crap to control my curiosity. Have you ever seen that one commercial where it's like Curiosity_: Pass It On_? I thought about it at that moment and almost laughed.

Fang shrugged in answer to my question. "Just wanted to prove to Hendricks that he can't win against me in that Camero of his," he replied, taking the glass away from my hand. His fingers brushed the palm of my hand and, _God,_ I almost lost it. But I was controlling myself better than I was before.

Something was telling me that he was lying, that he didn't race Hendricks just to prove to him that Fang could beat him. It was weird, but I somehow knew it was the truth. "That's a lie," I said simply, crossing my arms over my chest pigheadedly. I couldn't explain it, but it was like I knew him already, and I knew that he was lying. Make sense?

Fang grinned in that seductive way he had, mirroring my posture perfectly. "Maybe it ain't," he retorted daringly, and I had to stop the blush that was forming on my throat and threatening to make its way onto my cheeks. I was doing better.

I knew how to put on an intimidating face, and I didn't let the fact go to waste as I defiantly stared him down. "Tell me, then," I commanded, about bored with this conversation. On the outside, I was the Three C's: cool, calm, and collected. On the inside, I was hysterically freaking out that we were having an actual conversation, and I couldn't stop staring at his luscious lips. _But _I was hiding it like the pro that I am.

Apparently, Fang wasn't in a stubborn-as-a-mule mood, and he gave in moderately easy. "Fine, but you can't tell no one," he said, winking as he placed his right index finger over his lips and took his hat off with the left, laying it on my head. I bet he thought he was so smooth, didn't he? Well, he was. "The reason I did it was to impress you."

_Oh baby, you ain't gotta impress me anymore than you already do! _My heart screamed, but I kept it down like I'd promised. But that didn't stop the way my heart practically beat from my chest, or the way my eyes widened in shock, _or _how I desperately wanted to wrap my arms around him and smash my mouth against his. Wait, where'd that come from? I mentally shrugged it off, although I was inwardly freaking out over what he'd said.

How do you respond to a statement like that without it being too awkward? Gah, I had no clue. "Uh, well, nice driving and all, but the next time you want to impress a girl, don't try to kill her," I responded cooly, acting as if his statement hadn't rattled my nerves or sent my heart into hysteria. God, I should be on Broadway.

He rolled his eyes at my reply, situating the hat on my head before saying, "You can get anything you want, it's all on me." After he finished with the hat, he let his hands trail ever so softly down my cheeks and glided to my shoulders, griping them as he brought me closer. Oh dear Lord! "Anything, Max." Man, his breath smelled good. Like mints and citrus fruit, but it smelled good nonetheless.

My eyes widening impossibly further, I brushed passed him, walking swiftly toward a barstool. I sat on it, virtually bouncing, and I had to grip the dark brown – like Fang's eyes – bar as it started to swivel with me. You have no idea how many stares and glances I got from that little episode, people.

"What can I get ya, sweetie?" a woman from down the bar asked, washing a thick glass cup with a red washrag. She seemed young, and even slightly looked like me with her hair and eye color, but that was it. Because I towered over her, and she wasn't nearly as much muscle as me.

Halfway delusional from my encounter with Fang, I had to blink a couple times before I realized she'd talked to me. "Oh! Just get me a Mountain Dew, I guess," I said exasperatedly, swiping away the urge to order a shot of whiskey. At least Mountain Dew has a buzz too, even though it's not nearly as strong.

She smiled warmly at me as Angel and Nudge walked up and sat down beside me. "Oh, so you're with Fang and all his buddies, huh?" she mused, gesturing around the room with one hand and pulling a mug from under the bar and spraying some yellow/greenish liquid into it with the other.

I nodded miserably, taking the offered drink but finding I have no real intention of drinking it. I didn't think I could possibly stomach it. But that was when Fang decided to grace me with his presence, taking a seat beside me and slinging an arm haphazardly across my shoulders. I silently wondered where the others were and turned my head in search of them, finding them all on the dance floor boogying to some old George Strait song.

The woman, who's name tag, I noticed, read Marian Janssen, laughed at Fang and me, and said, "Hey Fang, what have you been up to?" She acted like they were old friends which, I guess, they were.

Fang shrugged, and in my peripheral vision I saw Nudge and Angel staring at Fang's arm and hat on me. "Oh, I'm about to show me a city-slicker how to kick it in the sticks with the critters," he answered, and I looked up at him questioningly. In response, he grinned. Jackass.

Marian must've thought this was hilarious, because she practically had a heart-attack from laughing. "You know, Fang, you're gonna get yourself and others in trouble with more than the Waylons if you don't settle down a little bit," she said, leaving me to wonder what she'd meant.

Fang pulled me to his side, and I almost fell from the stool but he caught me by removing his arm from my shoulders and placing it around my waist. "Don't worry, Marian, I've got to many people with me this time to act like I did a couple months ago," he said, squeezing me impossibly tighter, and – although I hate to admit it – I liked it. "Besides, can't let anything happen to my girls here."

Okay, that threw me for a loop. His _girls_? I am no one's girl, not even Dylan's. So why the heck would he claim not only me but Angel and Nudge? Angel, I could see since they were practically family. But Nudge and me? The screw must be too tight in this hillbilly's head.

Marian chuckled at this, waving a rag at Fang and hitting him in the side of the head. "You'd better watch it, Hawthorne, because that right there is your cousin's girlfriend," she said, pointing at me. Holy shiz does _everyone _freaking know me? "And I'm positive that he wouldn't want you touchin' her like that." Let's get one thing straight, okay? Fang will never, ever – ever, ever, _ever_ – touch me unless he puts a ring on my finger. Simple as that.

At this, Fang grinned like a hyena. "Dylan won't care, 'cause he had to go back to my place and get something," he answered, and I started to get angry. Dylan left without me? Seriously? It was supposed to be all for one and one for all. Guess it wasn't in his rulebook, though.

Dylan left. Ugh, that pisses me off! Well if he can just up and leave me here, then I can get back at him too. I just needed some help with it from his hot-hot-hot cousin Fang. "Hey, Fang," I said just a little too flirtatiously for my liking, and grabbed his hand, unwrapping it from around my waist and stepping off the stool, pulling him after me. "Let's dance."

Nudge and Angel pretty much thought I'd gone crazy, while Fang was gazing at me questioningly, although I could see the want and lust in his eyes in the dim lights. I had his left hand grasped in between both of mine, and I was clasping it to my chest while pulling him after me, alluringly smiling at him. God, what was I doing?

We reached the floor about five seconds later, but it felt like a lifetime as I stared into Fang's clouded dark brown eyes and he stared into mine. The George Strait song, which I'd later found out was named Heartland, was just going off, and a slow, romantic song by Faith Hill called Breathe was starting to come on. What was I doing?

"Do you know how to slow dance?" Fang asked me, his breath fanning my heated face, as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I nodded, reaching my arms up and linking them around his neck, resisting the urge to knot my hands in his jet black locks. Deciding to go with my instincts, I slowly lowered my head onto his shoulder, and I felt him squeeze tighter as he pulled me closer. Not that I was complaining.

"Hey, Fang," Ratchet called to us as he twirled Star, "you'd better be careful. She ain't yours." Sexist pig.

Fang smirked wildly in response, and I felt him pull me closer, practically lifting my toes off the ground. "She is for now," he answered back possessively. Did I call Ratchet a sexist pig? I meant Fang, sorry. Ratchet and the other guys just laughed heartily as they danced with their girls.

His hands moved lower, to my hips, and they started to rub tiny circles on my sides as he rubbed my body up against his, and, _dear Lord, _I loved it. The way our bodies practically molded together, and that indescribable sensation his hands were creating on my hips was sending electric currents throughout my entire body. I was almost purring in ecstasy.

It felt amazing, the way he was circling my hips with his thumbs and the way we seemed to fit perfectly together, like we were made for each other. I didn't want him to stop, and I knew that Fang had no intention of stopping either.

And then a thought entered my mind, and I almost groaned aloud at my stupidity. I was caught on asking it or not, but of course my curiosity won the battle, hands down. "What's Maya going to think about this, Fang?" Just to let him know that I was serious, I leaned my head back and gazed up at him, although my entire upper body was nearly dipping down since our lower bodies were glued together; you couldn't fit a _Magic Tree House_ book in between us.

Fang snorted unpleasantly, and I cocked an eyebrow in question at him. "Maya?" he almost squeaked, though his voice was so low and hushed it wouldn't technically qualify as one. I nodded in response. "Oh Max, we broke up three months ago. She's just a friend, that's all."

I nodded and laid my head back down because I liked being able to hear his heartbeat. I guess he wasn't satisfied with my reaction, though, because he removed his hands from my hips and brought them up to cup my cheeks. "If you don't believe me, ask anyone and they'll tell you. Okay?"

Again, I nodded, silently begging him to place his hands on my hips again. I didn't even have enough to time to bask in the obvious joy that Maya was a lying skank because I wanted his hands back on me. He gazed at my face a little longer, and then trailed his hands down my sides, just barely grazing me with the tips of his fingers. Then the song's chorus started playing, and he gripped my hips and practically slammed me against him, never once leaving my eyes as he did so. My head tipped back and I felt myself falling before I pulled myself upward, almost headbutting him but I stopped about five inches from his face.

If you want a clearer view of how we were dancing, go rent that movie _Dirty Dancing _with Patrick Swayze in it and fast-forward it to the part where him and Baby are dancing in his room/house thing. That's how Fang and I were, only closer, and we weren't as sexual looking. And, let me tell you, it felt amazing, like a hot shower on a cold winter morning. And I'm certain that Fang felt the same way. Our guilty pleasures... Oh wait, that is too sexual to describe it but you get it anyway right?

He didn't dip me – there wasn't any room to dip on the crowded dance floor – and so we just stayed in each other's embrace, every once in a while squishing the other to ourself. Ari and Nudge gave me worried glances, and I just smiled reassuringly in return, letting them know that I had everything under control and that I knew what I was doing.

But I didn't know, not really. Because Fang and I just wanted to get closer to each other, but we couldn't physically do that without stripping. I wanted more; I'll admit it. But I couldn't have more. Why? Because of Dylan, and Fang had all these girls swooning after him that were probably more compatible with him than me. Honestly, a city-slicker and a hot-ass cowboy? Destined for disaster.

Nevertheless, that didn't stop us as we bumped and grind – not in that way, people, come on get your heads outta the gutter – and I couldn't stop myself from jamming my head into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his wondrous scent. God, there was no telling what Dylan would do if he caught Fang and I like this. But I couldn't help myself... This was a bad idea.

"You know, this is actually nice," he whispered huskily in my ear, and shivers racked my whole body. I nodded into his neck, using my short nails to claw at his head while his breathing quickened in my ear. "We should have done this a long time ago."

I couldn't agree more. To be absolutely honest, I never wanted to dance with anyone the way I was with him other than him. Make sense? Good.

"Can you do anything but nod?" he asked, chuckling as his hands ventured slightly further down. In response, I puckered my lips and planted a kiss on his neck, making sure my mouth was opened enough that he could feel my damp tongue. Fang shuddered so bad he almost fell to the ground. "Bad question."

Ready to talk, I stood on my tiptoes and to whisper, "You think?" Okay, I have no idea why I did that, so if he tried to blackmail me with it, I'll plead mental insanity or something. You think he'd by it.

Fang didn't have time to respond, though, because I loud, booming voice yelled, "Get your hands the hell off my girl!"

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

_Hey, I need feedback pplz! Tell me if it was terrible or not, cuz like I said I ain't too hot at scenes like that. But in my opinion it's better than I thought it'd be! :) Seriously tho tell me what you thought! And don't get all on my case for making Max and Fang a little OOC, but that's what love does to ya honey. Although it did sound a bit sex-ish. Good thing I rated it K+ rite! _

_I tried to make my paragraphs shorter and I think I did that, altho I culd be wrong I guess. Again hit me up with a review suggesting what you think/want to happen and i'll consider it okay? Criticism is welcome, but dnt be too mean lol!_

_P.S. The chapters are gonna be a little slow cuz of testing, but you should get a couple on Friday, and if you dnt you have the permission to virtually slap me. I'll understand. _

_~ SoonerMagic_


	7. Chapter 7

_Holy crap! I am back like a small dog! Holy shiznit! It feels great! Oh, and I'm totally sorry about faking y'all out last week. Y'all just gotta understand that I was excited! And it just feels amazing! Now I know why authors get a kick outta being a writer! _

_Well, I had a hot as heck summer, how about y'all? I hauled hay all summer – square bales! - and it wasn't horrible, I guess, cause I like doing manual labor. We did summer league basketball this year, and I started and some chick practically broke my nose she elbowed me so hard, but it was all worth it because we won all of our 20-odd games. Yeah, we're beast. And I worked at a daycare all summer long, and didn't even get paid. So you can tell how ticked I was about that. But whatever, ya know? At least school's started and I got back my laptop and I finally got to see all my friends, especially my best friend/dude-I-love. But he doesn't like me, so who cares? I feel like Max with all her confusing emotions. _

_Anyway, I AM BACK BABY! And I know that I am probably boring you with all my talk but, gimme some time I'm glad. And you know what? I am still in love with Brantley Gilbert and the awesomeness of all of his songs, especially Kick It In The Sticks. Gotta love it!_

_Oh, and by the way, I AM SO SORRY FOR **NOT** UPLOADING A CHAPTER LAST WEEK! I swear I would let you slap me if I could, but I can't. Just don't be too mean to me. And be happy, because since you had to wait so long I decided to upload MULTIPLE chapters! o yes I am so good. _

_And here it is finally! Don't hate too much I know y'all waited for so long and it killed me not being able to write, but I'm still alive so... Exactly!_

_**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC, THE CHICK THAT LOVES BG!**_

Shocked beyond belief, I pushed Fang away – completely oblivious to the fact that we were practically dirty dancing – so hard that he had to grab a hold of a nearby stool for balance. I half expected Dylan to come waltzing up and knock Fang a good one, although he'd more than likely lose the fight that would follow. And the only thought occupying my mind at that moment was, _Couldn't he have let us finish?_

But I wasn't that selfish; I did think about something else other than myself sometimes. I thought about what Dylan might do or say to either Fang or me, and I realized that I blew it. I was scared and heartbroken that I'd been the one to break Dylan's heart by two-timing with his cousin. And let me tell you something, it's a rare occasion when I, Maximum Ride, feels guilty about something.

My mortified face turned toward the door, expecting to see a very ticked off Dylan, but to my confusion – and complete joy – the large screen door wasn't even opened, and, even though it was completely pitch black outside, I could tell that there was no one pulling in or about to enter. Relief flowed through my body, elating me beyond belief by the fact that the yell wasn't Dylan at all, that Fang and I hadn't gotten caught and I hadn't hurt my _boyfriend_. Who, at this very moment, was still missing.

But here's a question, and feel free to answer 'cause I have no freaking idea. Who had that loud, furious scream came from? And what had caused a mad scream in vexation like that? And who is the screamer going to beat the heck out of? Seriously, it sounded like he'd just walked in on his girl and another guy that wasn't him.

And I know that wasn't one question; it was, like, three or four, but my mind was entire mush at this current moment. Because of Fang, and the amazing, spine-tingling dance we were performing together.

Uncertainty and unquestionable happiness running rapid through my heated body, I swung my wide gaze back over to Fang, a small and delighted smile gracing my lips, and I watched him as he steadied himself, and I knew he was as bewildered and relieved as I was. I couldn't help but notice how flushed his cheeks were, and that he was shaking visible, and with a start I realized I was too. Heat was swimming throughout my body, making it seem that the temperature had just risen about fifty degrees.

I bet if I was in Fang's arms I'd be much, much, _much _warmer. Dear Lord, I'd almost gotten caught and I was still fantasizing about having his arms around me, me laying my head on his shoulder and swaying to the soft beat of a slow song, one that sent shivers down my spine because it was so sweet and heartfelt, and full of love. Holy mother crupper, will someone _please _be kind enough to help me out of this dilemma?

Everyone on the dance floor – about thirty or so people – had all stopped dead in the middle of their dance, and Faith Hill was left to sing to nobody. They were all startled, even Ratchet and Iggy, and Star had gathered the others into a tight circle.

Everyone's undivided attention was being focused on the hallway, the same one where the ranky-danky-stanky bathroom was located. The same one I'd just walked down about ten minutes ago, although it felt like a lifetime ago from being in Fang's strong, secure arms.

"Dude, I didn't do anything!" I voice exclaimed from the hallway, and I realized with a sudden jolt that I recognized that voice, the obnoxious tone in it giving it away. It was Holden, the dumbass, the guy who's girlfriend slept around with all of his friends, and the dude who was just like her.

The guy that I happened to be totally ticked off at this very moment, because he was the reason that Fang and I split apart. And he was the reason why I freaked out over Dylan, and even almost hurt Fang. That asshole.

We all heard this huge, thunderous boom in the hallway, and I couldn't help but think that Holden deserved anything that the dude did to him. "Like hell! I saw you with your hands all over her!" the dude yelled in a booming voice that was deeper than Death Valley, it seemed.

Curiously, I started to follow the crowd that was starting to gather around the entrance of the hallway, Fang right behind me with his hand on my shoulder, making sure I didn't stray to close to the fight that was about to erupt. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd, beyond pissed at Holden and wanting to know exactly what the heck he'd done.

From where I was in the front of the large crowd, I saw a mountain of a man with short red hair and a long red mustache, a shaped Texas Longhorns hat placed crookedly on his head. He was huge; I couldn't tell if his belly was muscle or fat, but I knew that I had no chance at a wrestling match with this dude.

Holden was on the ground at his feet, his light brown hair disheveled and his lips pouty, like he'd just been thoroughly kissed. It was then that I saw the woman standing fearfully behind the mountain man, her arms squeezing the guy's biceps, trying to stop him from harming the coward Holden.

"Roland, don't!" the woman, who was quite beautiful with her dark skin and hair, pleaded with the dude, who's name was Roland I presumed. That name didn't suit this mountain of a man one bit, and I wondered how he'd gotten to be that big. "You remember what you did to the last guy, don't you?"

Fang was directly behind me, so close I could feel his body heat, and I leaned against him slightly – even though it was against my better judgement – and I let him know that this wasn't over. Also, I was kinda freaked about what Roland had done to _the other guy_. Dylan was completely off my worried list at the moment. Which I was overly thankful for.

The dude picked up a chair that was in the corner of the hallway, and hefting it over his head high, he brought it down with the intention of bashing Holden over the head with it, but Holden was too quick for the giant and crawled quickly to the end of the lighted corridor till he reached the crowd. Then he got to his feet, his eyes immediately meeting Fang's and mine.

He saw us standing there, infuriated looks on both our faces from having to call our very heated, very sexy dance off, and he looked at us desperately, pleadingly. "Help me!" he squeaked with the courage of a tiny ant facing a giant grasshopper.

Usually, I would've left Holden to deal with this mocho creep on his own, but for some unknown reason I couldn't make myself do it. I had no idea why, but I just knew that Holden would get his ass kicked and I would be the one that had to explain to his parents what had happened to their son. And I really didn't feel like dealing with those two lunatics.

I stepped beside to let him pass me, and he ran through the crowd till Iggy caught him around the collar and pushed Holden behind himself, as if he was protecting the coward. "You'll stay here and face what you done did, kid," Iggy said, his southern accent emphasizing his deep voice, and the way he said it made my skin prickle. Like he would take care of Holden if Roland didn't get to him, and I knew he would without hesitation.

Roland, recovering from the shock of watching Holden escape, started toward the amused crowd, his breath coming in extensive, loud pants of fury. But most people moved, because who would want to be barreled down by that guy? And the funny thing? I didn't, even as Roland came to stand before, my eyes just barely connecting with the tip of his shoulder.

Fang, either really brave or really stupid, stepped in front of me, pushing me behind him. I got his message from the pressure he was applying on my shoulder: he wanted me back there with the others where I was safe. And I didn't complain one tiny bit about him being a sexist pig because that Roland character irked me the wrong way. And yes, I just used the word _irked. _I guess I'd learned something in Mrs. Steel's English class after all.

"Now, Roland," Fang drawled out, very calmly might I add, like he'd done this stuff a million times before. Which I guess he had, since he was this badass and wild country boy that didn't care what people thought of him. "This ain't the first time you've caught Anne with another dude, so why get all crazy now?"

Roland, seething with angry and wanting so terribly to thrash Holden, looked Fang dead in his beautifully dark eyes, trying to intimidate Fang, but he couldn't be intimidated. "This ones different, 'cause he had his hands up her shirt and tongue down her throat!"

With Holden behind me, I could feel if not see the way his body was shaking violently, like he'd just went skinny dippin' in Antarctica in the middle of winter. I was shaking too, although it wasn't from being cold or the fact that Fang had held me in his arms, but I was angry. Furious, actually.

Spinning around, unable to restrain my fuming anger for any longer, I faced Holden, still held from the collar of his Hurley shirt by Iggy. In fact, I was on the verge of asking Iggy to pull that collar a little tighter, to make Holden realize that that's what Roland was going to do to him if Fang allowed him to get his hands on the chicken.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I demanded, practically stomping my feet because that's how I throw my little fits. "I know you're not the brightest crayon in the box, that's as obvious as the sky is blue, but seriously man? Have you seen the size of that freaking giant? He could probably crush with a flick of his pinky finger!"

Okay, I exaggerated a little, tiny, bitty-bit, but I wanted the full affect of his actions to hit Holden like he'd been kicked by a mule, sinking in deep and making him realize that he probably ruined the guy's relationship.

Holden cowered down, slumping back completely behind Iggy, who was more or less dying from laughter. I looked at Iggy, willing him to catch my eye, and when he did I gave him a look that said, _What the heck are _you _laughing about, hillbilly? _He instantly shut up, and I smiled triumphantly. It amazed me that I had the same affect on the people here that I do back in Tulsa.

I looked back at Holden, comprehending that he had no intention of answering any of the questions I had bombarded him with. Oh, that just wouldn't do, buddy. Fess up and I might take it easy on you.

"I am still waiting for the answer, dumbass," I announced, my hand on my hip. From behind me, I could hear Fang trying to calm down Roland with the help of the guy's girlfriend, though I wasn't sure if they were making any perceptible progress or not. Probably not.

Holden bit his lip to try to keep from answering, but in the end it came out because I stomped on his foot. Hard.

"Okay!" he exclaimed, giving me a death glare, which Iggy saved me from responding by yanking hard on Holden's collar. "You'd do it too, if you had a girlfriend who ran around on you like she thought you were no better than dirt she walks on."

Those words hit me hard, going into the outfield and over the fence, sliding into home. I looked at Holden closely, attentively, wanting to know if he was joking or being serious, which was kind of hard to tell since his face was looking down at the cracking brown floorboards that really could use a nice waxing.

"What they hell did you just say?" Kate abruptly declared from behind Holden, pushing me to the side, away from Holden so she could stand in front of. I let her, stepping off to the side till I was shoulder-to-shoulder with Daisy Duke herself, a.k.a. Star.

From where I was standing I could see the hurt and disbelief in Kate's eyes, the outraged and undeniable pained expression painting her pale face. And I didn't feel sorry for her at all. It was her fault; she was the one that ran around on Holden most of the time. And Holden had done his own running around on Kate himself. Which I thought was just freaking hilarious. In fact, I'd been waiting for them two to dish it out for several weeks now.

"Why, you son of a bi – " Kate didn't get to finish, however, because of Fang, and the way he was running like a bat out of hell through the crowd, so reckless that he had pushed a few people down.

"Let's roll!" he hollered to us all unexpectedly, his loud, deep voice echoing in the silent bar as he finally broke free from the crowd and grabbed my hand – which sent searing, wondrous tingling throughout my entire body – and starting to pull me willingly toward the door, virtually dragging me because I couldn't keep up with his ridiculous speed.

The other's started to get the gist of what Fang meant: _Let's get the hell out of here right now! _Well, that's how I interpreted it, at least. I had time to look over my shoulder, though, before we exited the screen door, and I saw Roland pushing through the crowd while holding his bloody nose as several other big men like him and Anne followed him.

Holy crap, what did Fang do? Please tell me he didn't hit that guy. Oh my gosh, he did! I was hyperventilating – partly from Fang grasping my hand tightly in his, and partly because Roland and his gang of giant mountain men were following us. Probably getting ready to pound our faces in.

Adrenaline was advancing through my stiff body, starting at my toes and making its way up till it met my heart, sending it into a ludicrous pounding against my chest, practically begging to be set free. But guess what, Heart? You ain't' gettin' out unless someone rips you out of me!

"Fang, man, what did you _do_?" the Gasman asked the question I was too shocked to, as we floated through the parking lot that was cluttered with trucks and cars of every style and model. We weaved in and out and around cars like experts, and I once banged my knee against the fender of a large Ford 4x4 F-350, and it hurt like a moe foe.

If I was right, there was about fifty people all running to their cars and trucks, which were parked on the other side of the road, where a creek was located, because the parking lot was so full of other vehicles. Hendricks was parked beside us with his gang, and they were already in their Camero, waiting on Fang.

We rounded a tall, bright blue Dodge Ram that had a huge green lift-kit on it, and who did we run into? Why, it was my absent boyfriend, Dylan, pocketing his wallet as he exited his Silverado. He saw us running and looked at us like we were crazy, which we probably were since two of us had picked a fight with a guy taller than Yoi-_freaking_- Ming.

Dylan, bemused to the point where his face was crinkled together in absolute wonderment, opened his mouth to ask what we were doing, but before he could even utter a word, Ari cut him off. "No time to explain, Dylan. Get in the truck and haul ass!"

Usually, I would've backhanded Ari if he'd have cussed, but this was the perfect time to use that word, and it was appropriate. Which counted for a lot, since Mom and Dad still don't know that I cuss.

Dylan listened to us, thank God, and jumped back in his truck. Kate, Maya, and a few other people hopped in with Dylan, then several jumped in the back because they caught a ride over here. Dylan started the truck and pulled out, turning sharply to the left and speeding down the road that led to the main highway.

We finally reached Fang's car, him sliding over the hood like Bo Duke, hauling me over it with him so swiftly I thought I'd face-plant on the gravel. But we didn't – thank God – and once Fang landed on his feet, he yanked open the driver side door and all but propelled me in with his arm. That all happened in about 2.5 seconds.

"Put Holden in the back, Ig!" Fang commanded Iggy as Ari and Nudge dove in, scooting over to the farthest side behind Fang, followed promptly by Angel and the Gasman, who were both shrieking loudly with laughter.

Obviously, they were used to this kind of thing. Obviously, we weren't. As anyone with eyes could tell.

Iggy pushed Holden in with so much force that he went sprawling out over the people in the backseat. I was in the middle, of course, and when Iggy slid into the Challenger, he squished me against Fang's side, and I could feel the muscles that rippled all over Fang's lean body. But I wasn't complaining any. At all. In fact, it felt way better being pressed up against him than it'd ever felt with Dylan.

Fang started the engine and floored it, sending us all slamming into our seats, our bodies almost molding their shape in the black leather. The radio immediately started blaring a Brantley Gilbert song, one called _Kick It In The Sticks_, I think. And then I realized that Fang hadn't answered Gazzy's question, and I was going to have to be the one that asked again.

"What did you do, Fang?" I asked/screamed in panic, looking up at him from where I was crushed against his side. He looked down at me, his dark eyes glowing with intensity and craziness, and he took my hand, hiding it between so nobody could see, and he started illustrating tiny circles in my palm. And it didn't even bother me that I was still dating Dylan, and he had swarms of girls chasing after him 24/7.

"Don't worry, Max," he whispered in my ear over the noise and racket that was threatening to enclose the car, but it couldn't reach Fang and me, for some unknown reason. It was like we were oblivious to the world around us, and it was only the two of us, me with the Greek god Fang. "I've dealt with Roland before, and he doesn't take too kindly when he catches Anne runnin' around on him."

"Why not leave her, then?" I asked, my hand holding tightly onto his as he pulled out in front of oncoming traffic, gassing it so a SUV wouldn't smash in to the back of this amazingly gorgeous ride.

Fang smiled down at me, pulling my hand even more firmly against his side, making me lean against him with all my weight, and I realized that's what he was intending to do. But Fang's strong, calloused hand was like a light in the darkness, leading me away from total insanity and hyperventilation. He was like my anchor, my rock – like my boyfriend.

Which he wasn't, I assure you with the utmost honesty. Well, not _yet _at least_._ I wasn't a two-timer; I have pride and respect for Dylan, and I'd never do that to him or anyone.

"Because he loves her," he said simply, his smile making his face light up in the dark car, warming me from the goosebumps that covered my flesh when we started running.

But then he turned serious, looking into the review mirror, his dark, deadly eyes landing on Holden as he tried to righten himself in the backseat. In the end, Nudge had to sit on Ari's lap, which I don't think either were going to object to that.

"Holden, what the hell were you thinkin'?" Fang yelled at a bewildered and slightly impressed Holden, twisting every which way in the cramped seat to get comfortable. Fang jerked the wheel to the right, his anger causing his driving to slack a little (i.e. he almost ran off the road into a forest) and he gassed it, willing the Challenger to climb the asphalt hill.

Holden shrugged as if it wasn't an important matter – that reckless dumb_ass_ – but I could tell by the way his eye twitched slightly that he was scared, terrified of Fang. And you know what? He had every right to be petrified by Fang; I would've been too, if I was in his position.

"No, don't answer that, 'cause you weren't thinkin'. At all," Fang said before Holden had a chance to answer, which he wouldn't have. "Stay away from other boys' women. That's one damn good way for a man to get whooped down. These boys are tough down here. Get your ass tore up down here."

You wanna know a secret? Fang's little speech knocked some much-needed sense into me. Men down here, in the country, don't mess around when it comes to their personal life, and they wouldn't hesitate to _tear you up, _as Fang had put it. But it was undeniably, unquestioningly true.

"I should kick your ass and save Roland from havin' to do it," Fang said slowly, menacingly, like he wouldn't have hesitated to injure Holden if it were Fang's girl he was screwing around with. Speaking of that, did Fang even have a girlfriend? "At least I wouldn't almost kill you."

After Fang's murderous chastising, the car was amazingly silent. You could probably hear a grasshopper sneeze from a mile away (do they even sneeze?). The only thing you could hear was the wind as it whipped the side of the car as we sped down a two-lane highway, rapidly passing by houses and buildings that were so blurry that they were almost unrecognizable. And it hurt my eyes as we rumbled on past them, the greatly contrasted colors swirling together.

Ari, though, tempting fate like the daring kid he was, broke the tense silence by asking Fang, "Where are we going?" His voice sounded different; high-pitched and unexperienced, not like Fang's, or even Iggy's. I hadn't thought about it till now, but there was a bunch of things differing between a city boy and a country boy.

Fang, still holding my hand against his thigh, smirked psychotically in the mirror, his gaze meeting Ari's. "Some place that I know Roland can't get his hands on us," he answered, leaving room for us to ponder what he was talking about. And, with his oddly soft hand still creating tiny circles on my palm my brain still felt like mush, hormonal mush.

"Where's that at?" Nudge asked the question that none of us really wanted to.

Iggy chuckled, laying his arm across my shoulders in a casual manner, and it felt like he was trying to comfort me. Like a brother would. "The Poteau football field," he answered for Fang.

"Why?" I ask, looking up at Iggy, my light brown eyes meeting his baby blues. Iggy was actually very good looking with his shaggy strawberry hair and gorgeous blue eyes, but in my opinion he didn't even compare to Fang.

He smiled slightly and halfheartedly shrugged as we pulled out onto a four-lane, cutting off a Toyota Tundra as it roared down the road toward us. The driver was blaring the horn, and I had a sudden pang of deju-vu from drag racing against Joey Hendricks when we almost collided with two cars. At the very instant, I almost felt slugging Fang in the face. But I didn't, because I was afraid it would screw up his beautiful face.

We were all silent again, listening to the sounds around us. Brantley Gilbert's song Kick It In The Stickshad long-since gone off, being replaced by a song called 'What Was I Thinking' by Dierks Bentley. In my opinion, it had a great beat and the message it was sending came out loud and clear. And it was also funny, well country funny.

I was entirely consumed by the blaring radio and total into the song that I didn't realize we had arrived at the football stadium till Iggy was exiting the vehicle, pulling the black leather seat up so the others were able to get out. I followed suit, waiting impatiently for Fang to open the door and get out as well.

I climbed – or more like _staggered –_ out as Fang and the others were crowding around the hood of the car, being joined by some more of Fang's numerous friends. Fang was acting like he didn't just dance seductively with me, that he didn't just break a giant's nose, that he didn't just hold my hand to comfort me.

And that, my friends, pissed me off. He was sending mixed signals. One minute he was giving me his undivided attention, like I was the most precious thing in the world to him. And in the next instant he would walk off and pretend that I didn't even exist. I mean, seriously, WTF? Could he be anymore freaking unclear?

Before I had to ponder of my fuming questions, a very angry and very tough Roland pulled up beside the car, so close that I had to slam my body against the door so I wouldn't get hit. And that jus ticked me off even more because I'd almost gotten plowed down by a huge forest green Ford F-250 with a neon yellow lift kit on it. Or technically underneath it, but whatever.

Roland jumped from the driver side, his blistering gaze landing on an amused Fang but then finding its way toward me, where I was still pressed firmly against the door of the Challenger, and Roland's eyes went wide as he started toward me, completely ignoring Fang. Which was something I could not do, not ever. And I do not pride myself in that fact, either.

Fear, anger, and adrenaline was coursing briskly through my veins, making my heart speed up again in the last five minutes, going so fast that it surprised me that I didn't go into immediate and fatal cardiac arrest. My eyes were wide, and I was fighting with my mind to make myself stop freaking out. Haha, easier said than done. My mind was just as defiant and stubborn as I was, and it wouldn't listen to me. At that moment, I really wanted to punch my brain.

But in an instant Fang was beside me, standing slightly in front and to the right of me with his hand on my shoulder. Oh, so _now _he wanted to act like I was the world, huh? Not happening, hillbilly. I don't operate like that. It's either take me or leave, and sorry, but Dylan beat you to it. Well, he kinda did.

I shrugged Fang's hand off as if it were on fire, a disgusted and annoyed expression clouding my face as I stepped away from him. Roland was directly in front of me now, his eyes hungrily devouring my body pressing up against the car, and before Fang or him could do anything, Ratchet was suddenly beside Roland, a 12 Gage pointed at his head.

And, before I continue, let me just say that I about shit my pants when I saw that gun, shiny and slick, it's wood glistening in the overhead streetlamp. I hadn't even seen him sneak up, let alone pull up. That dude was sneaky; I needed to keep a close eye on this hillbilly. Plus his hot as hell brother that I was currently mad at. Again. For, like, the tenth time already.

"C'mom, Roland. Leave," Ratchet said, motioning toward Roland's Ford with the well-oiled barrel. "You know I can bust a 12 Gage, pump and not miss." And a part of me knew that Ratchet wasn't lying; country boys are as honest as the day his long, and I was figuring that out the hard way.

Roland was just as surprised as I was, and if Fang was he wasn't showing it. He just continued to stand beside me, his body heat radiating from him and warming my chilled body. And then I remembered that I was still mad at him, and I steeled my body against his eternal warmth.

"Now, now, Ratchet," Roland started, his voice low and compromising, not wanting to get shot. "There ain't no need for that right there. We was just gonna have a nice little talk." Pssh, yeah right, Freako!

Ratchet wasn't having any of it, and he pushed the gun harder against Roland's head. "That ain't what it looked like to me," he retorted, spitting on the ground at his feet. "Now get your ass in that truck and skedaddle. Now."

Roland, without an ounce of pride, ran over to the driver side and hopped in, starting it immediately and slamming on the gas, sending him backing out so fast that some of his friends had to jump in the back if they wanted a ride, and then he was peeling out toward the highway, the exhaust on the truck as loud as a packed NCAA football stadium.

All that happened in about five seconds, and it cracked me up so hard that I snorted like a hog. And I wasn't even a Razorback fan! This is how the whole football thing played out in my mind: _Oklahoma: The Good, Texas: The Bad, & Arkansas: The Ugly. _But that was just me.

Right at that moment, Dylan came running up to us, a shocked and scared expression painting his cute face as he watched Ratchet lower the gun and toss it into the back seat of the Challenger.

"What happened?" Dylan asked immediately, wasting no time as he pulled me into his arms and tucked my head under his. I was so relieved to see him that my arms wound themselves around his neck and I held him close.

I suddenly realized that he'd asked what had happened because it hadn't registered in my mind before, and I didn't want anyone spilling their guts about Fang's and my dance. Because A) I'd clobber the heck out of them, and B) there was no one telling Dylan unless it was me. And I probably would never tell him anyway. It was my dirty little secret.

I promptly pulled my head away from his and looked up at his face, at the way his blue-gray eyes shown in the moonlight and how he was so worried that he wouldn't let me go. I was about to answer when Fang interrupted me and answered for me.

"Long story; tell you later," he said, and I could hear the smile in his smooth, deep voice. I was so relieved that Fang didn't blurt anything out that I reached up and slanted my lips across Dylan's, not caring who saw or what they thought. Fang was the only exception, though.

But Fang's unexpected declaration jerked me away from Dylan, and I about passed out. And about slapped that sexy smirk off his too-hot face.

"Let's play some football."

_**Okay, I understand if you want to kill me for taking so long and not updating, and even giving you a suck-ass chapter, but it was the best I could do. So don't hate too much. I did promise multiple chapters since I made you wait, so click that 'next' button and it'll take you to another one! :) :) :) :) :) PLZ don't hate me too much! :) ;)**_

_**Oh, and I hope y'all enjoyed the Dirt Road Anthem lyric and Kick It In The Sticks lyrics I put in there. **_

_**Dirt Road Anthem: **_You know I can bust a 12 Gage, pump and not miss

_**Kick It In The Sticks: **_Stay away from other boys' women. That's one damn good way for a man to get whooped down. These boys are tough down here. Get your ass tore up down here

_**~ SoonerMagic **_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Okay, so how'd you like that sucky chapter before this one? And it's ok if you hated it cuz I did too. But I did my best and I couldn't really think of anything to do. Anyway, as I'm writing this my little nephew is sick and I feel terrible cuz he don't like me. At all. We fight like heck. Idk why tho. **_

_**Also, I was having a party, kinda like the story. But we didn't really go anywhere except to work with the animals, to town to get some hamburger meat, to the dump to throw the trash out, and went to the sale barn to buy a DOMESTIC hog that turned out to be a WILD hog. No biggie. **_

_**And I was also going through all my Brantley Gilbert pictures! And they are HOT! They give chill bumps just thinking about him. Gosh I love him!**_

_**Oh, and Poteau (pronounced Pow-toe) has this cool myth of how it got named. Here's how it goes: a long time ago an Indian was walking around barefoot and he stumped his toe, and he screamed, "Oh, my poe toe!" Which is how Poteau got its name. Oklahoma is the Indian Nation, after all. **_

_**Anyhow, here's the story again, and I hope you enjoy cuz I had to rack my brain for all the football information I know. Which, actually, is a lot. :) **_

_**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **_by **_SOONERMAGIC, THE CHICK WHO IS SO SORRY_**

Okay, I am a star on the basketball, volleyball, softball, swimming, soccer, and track team, but never, in my whole entire life, have I ever nor ever wanted to play football. But here I was, standing in the middle of the impossibly green football field at the fifty yard line, with about thirty people crowding around; almost thirty more were on the sidelines, prepared to cheer and holler when we begin playing.

Nudge and Angel were over there on the sidelines, waving someone's bandanna around, along with a few other people I recognized but didn't know by name. Kate, Star, and Maya were going go dish it out on the field with us, and I was thankful that I wasn't going to be the only girl out here.

And you're probably thinking, _Why not sit on the sidelines if you don't want to play, Max? _Ha, because I have a persistent younger brother and retarded boyfriend who begged me to play, and a hot-as-the-sun hillbilly who was practically willing me to play with his dark-as-midnight eyes. And with pressure like that, I had to give in.

But here's the deal. I have never, ever – ever, ever, ever – played football, and I didn't know how good I'd be at a game I've never played before. Heck, I didn't even know what most of the positions were supposed to do. But it can't be that hard, can it?

A friend of Fang's named Mac, or something like that, had climbed up the long metal bleachers to the announcer's booth and flipped on the overhead lights, bathing the field in complete light. It was so bright that I was almost blinded, and mentally slapped Mac for turning the lights on. Mac also turned the radio on, and it was now blaring a loud Jason Aldean song, My Kinda Party, or something to that effect.

I knew basic football information, which was pretty much what everyone knew. You have four downs to move the ball down the field ten yards to gain a whole new set of downs. Most times there are eleven players on the field at a time, but some people played with eight players occasionally. There was a quarterback, five offensive linemen – two guards, two tackles, and a center – one tight end, two running backs, and however many wide receivers you want (the limit is five on the field at a time, and then some even have to line up on the offensive line). You have to have at least seven players lined up next to each other on the offensive line. By rule, only two players are allowed to catch a pass.

But that's pretty much all I knew. And I had learned it from watching the Sooners play. And I only watched because Ari and my Dad forced me to. Although it wasn't terrible; not at all what I expected.

"So, how are we gonna do this, Fang?" Dylan asked, his arm wrapped securely around my waist, almost possessively. Stupid sexist pig.

Fang was a few yards in front of us, and he was staring at Dylan underneath his ripped baseball hat, so Dylan couldn't actually notice him, but I could because I was at an angle. And I knew that he was thinking about our intimate dance, the way our bodies molded together like they were made for each other.

But I was spoken for, and there was no way I'd be the one that left Dylan without a reasonable explanation, not something like,_ Sorry, but I think he's way cuter and way more daring and cooler than you are. Hope we can still be friends, though. Bye!_

Fang looked up at Dylan, his hardened expression instantly switching to a friendly one, and he replied, "Prob'ly just split up into two strings of offense and defense, and play." The light was reflecting alluringly off his face, shadowing it in all the right places and making his cheek bones seem more well defined. I wasn't lying when I said he was way hotter than Dylan.

"Sounds great," Ari said, coming up to stand beside Fang. Ari was pretty tall for a fifteen-year-old at five-ten, but compared to Fang he was like a midget. Which was just fine by me, 'cause I like 'em tall. Oh dear Lord, what was I thinking?

"How're we dividin' it up?" the Gasman asked, who was over to the right of us, taking off his black cowboy boots with a neon green stripe running up the sides. It was then that I realized all the hillbillies were in boots, and I wondered how they were going to be able to run in them, let alone play football. I had boots – Fat Baby boots but still – and I could barely jog in them things.

Fang, still staring wildly angry at Dylan and me wrapped in his arms, smirked at me and then answered Gazzy. "Ratchet, Maya, Star, Gazzy, Ari, Iggy, Dylan, Holden, and Kate, y'all are on my team." As he said this, he pointed at everyone in the order he named them, and they all walked over to stand beside him. And then he looked at me, his eyes glinting fiercely, and he pointed at me with an odd smirk on his lips. "Max is with me."

The way he worded it through me for a loop, and I pondered over which way he meant it as Dylan and I walked over toward him. It was either intended to mean that I was with him as in on his team, or I was with him in the boyfriend/girlfriend sense. Which just plain pissed me off because, even though we got a little close dancing, it didn't mean we were together. I was still with Dylan and I was very loyal to whomever I am dating at the time, and I wouldn't cheat on him even though I was majorly attracted to his cousin.

"Yo, Mac. Round up your guys and we'll start it off, got it?" Fang called to Mac as he jumped over the bar that was connected to the metal bleachers and landed ten feet below.

"Gotcha," he hollered back, motioning for 'his guys' to follow him onto the field. Mac was dressed different; he looked like a biker with his tight leather jacket, black jeans, and black T-shirt. His guys looked like bikers too, and I was again astonished at how many friends this hot hillbilly had acquired over the years. I hadn't even obtained half the number of people that were at his house even though I live in Tulsa and am very much liked. I guess that's just the way things operated around these parts.

Fang motioned for us to all get in a circle, although it came out looking like an oval because none of us could actually get in a perfect circle. And guess where I was? Right by Fang, squished in between him and Dylan tight because we were in such a compacted circle.

I didn't know whether my sweaty palms and heated face was from my anger at Fang or from being so close to him, so close that I could feel his body heat and smell his individually unique scent, leather and Axe. And it was doing a number on my already mulched mind. I wonder if it was possible to succumb to brain damage from being around someone as hot as Fang for a long period of time. Hmm, maybe that's why all the people around here were a little bit off.

"Okay, guys, this is simple," Fang started, looking at us all under his ragged baseball hat, and heat exploded throughout my body when he looked at me just a little bit longer than the others. "I know y'all know how to play. We'll start off with something easy. We'll just run the ball for the first couple downs."

Everyone nodded except for me, because I was too absorbed by Fang and his amazing fragrance. Wait, _fragrance _sounded way to feminine to describe Fang. Hmm, maybe aroma? No, too girly as well. Let's just go with scent; much, much better than any of the others.

"I'll be the quarterback since I'm better at it than Dylan," Fang went on with a playful glance at Dylan standing beside me. "Dylan, Ratchet, Iggy, Gazzy, and Holden; y'all are the offensive linemen. And Ratchet, you're the center. Ari, you're a wide receiver."

Hmm, that's what position Ari plays back in Tulsa. Wonder how Fang knew? Also, I wonder if Fang put Holden on the line so he could get the snot beat out of him, so he could still get a piece of what Roland was going to do to him before Ratchet saved his ungrateful hide.

All the guys nodded, which just left us girls. And I felt kind of self-conscience about my sporting talent at that moment. Especially since I hadn't ever played football.

Fang grinned toothily at us girls, his eyes roaming around the tight circe. "Maya, you're the tight end. Star and Kate, you two are gonna be my runnin' backs, go it?" he ordered, and all three nodded. Which just left good ole me, standing beside him looking like I was about to pass out. "And Max? You'll be my wide receiver. You run down the field whenever the ball's hiked. Everyone got it?"

Well, I freaking knew what I wide receiver was – from Ari, who was a started on the varsity team because he so good – but thanks for embarrassing me any, Fang. I appreciate it. That makes it like – what – a hundred times in the past three hours? Jeez, you're a pro at this.

Shaking off my ever-raging temper, I followed suit as everyone nodded and broke apart from the circle, heading to the far right of the field where Mac and his gang were. I started to follow, but Fang – who I hadn't realized wasn't following – grabbed my arm and stopped me.

Looking up into his impossibly dark eyes and ignoring the tingles his simple touch sent throughout my body, I asked acidly, "What?" It wasn't a secret that I was ticked off at Fang, and so now I let my infuriated tone related how angry I was.

But if Fang understood the undercurrent of my words, he didn't give any sign except that wickedly exciting smirk that sent my heart fluttering. "Everything's gonna be all right," was all he said, and in an instant later he was gone, sprinting toward the others crowding around the twenty yard line.

Okay? What was that about? And, more importantly, what did I think was wrong? Seriously, could he freaking read minds or something? He always knew what I'm thinking, even when I didn't. Dylan had never understood my complicated mind, and didn't even try to meet me halfway. But here his cousin was, doing exactly that and more. It was times like these when I wondered which cousin I should really be with.

Shaking off my mental insanity, I jogged toward the others, my brown hair whipping me in the face, annoying me even more. I was starting to think that after this night _kickin' it in the sticks, _I really needed to enroll myself in anger management. I'd heard good things about a therapist in Tulsa that specialized in teenage anger.

I reached the others in about five seconds, barely huffing because I was in such good shape, and stood off to the side. I could hear them debating on who was going to go on offense first, Fang or Mac, and I inwardly knew that Fang was going to win. Because he always wins, no matter the challenge. That thought made me smile a little bit.

Fang, taking off his hat and running a hand through his beautiful black hair, shrugged and said, "Let's just flip for it." He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a penny – at least I thought it was a penny from the way it glinted a copper brown in the overhead lights – and held it out to Mac. "Call it."

"Heads," Mac said, flipping it high into the air and catching it, slapping it on the upside of his hand. Everyone crowded around to see what the result was, and I saw Fang grin brilliantly, taking the coin from Mac's hand and pocketing it.

What did I say? Fang always wins, no matter what, even if it was a 50/50 chance. I wonder if he rigged the penny so he'd win? But I knew he didn't, because he was lucky enough to win without cheating.

"Okay, guys, let's go," Fang said, his hot southern accent drawing out his sentence, as he motioned for us to get in our position. The guys got down in the three-point stance: kneeling with one hand on the ground and their butt up in the air ready to launch themselves at the defense to protect the QB.

I knew where to line up at; directly in line with the tackles, guards, and center, but away from them so I could have some room to run down the field to catch a pass. I lined up on the left, and Ari got the right, which was his favorite. I watched as Mac and his gang all shed their leather jackets and tossed them to a few people on the sidelines with orders not to get them dirty, and then they lined up, facing us with menacing looks in their eyes.

Fang, who was in the pocket leaning down with his hands in between Ratchet's legs (and don't laugh at that like I did, because that's how it's supposed to be) called out so everyone could hear, "Remember, if anyone hurts one of my girls, I hurt you." He looked at me as he said this, winking his right eye. I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the sinful way his attention affected me.

Can I say sexist pig one more freaking time? Because that's what he was. A smooth, sexy, funny, strong sexist pig that made my blood boil whenever our eyes met. Which was just terribly awful, considering that I'd been dating his cousin for almost a year now.

Everyone laughed at Fang, although he meant it. It was impossible to miss the way his voice held not one ounce of playfulness even though his eyes were twinkling when he said it. He meant it, and he'd do it without hesitation. I couldn't explain it, but I knew it. It was like I knew him already.

I felt that familiar and welcome rush of adrenaline and excitement cascade through my body, giving me goosebumps and making it seem I could do anything in the world. I greeted the flutter of nervousness in the pit of my stomach, making my legs shake with impatience.

And if you're a sports addict like I was, you know that feeling you get before every game. Like it's just your team and the other people, fighting to win your last game of the year, the last game you'll ever play with the people you love. I know that was emotional and heartfelt, but it's what I feel every time I dress into my uniform or jersey, step onto the court or field. I bet it's the same way with you too.

My wondering thoughts had kept my attention away from the game, and when I was finished with my reverie I watched Fang hand the ball off to Kate and her start running to the left, where I was standing, still in my position, ready to fly down the field. Which I wasn't doing like I was supposed to.

But I knew Kate couldn't hold off those guys, because A) she's too small for it, and B) she wasn't fast or strong enough to hold them off. So that left me with only one choice. Instead of running down the field with Ari I'd have to stay and tackle for her. Which I didn't like too much.

Kate looked at me with a big smile on her lips, tucking the ball into the crook of her arm like a baby, and I grinned back, although I had no idea why. She was slow enough that I could easily get in front of her, and I felt her confused eyes on my back, wondering what I was doing. Hell, I had no idea what I was doing.

I saw the first guy jump in front of us, clad in leather and black boots, and watched as he tried to stop our forward progress. He was bigger than me by a few inches and had a good fifty pounds on me, but I wouldn't let that stop me. Before the dude could get ready, I put my head down and plowed into him, slamming into the guy's stomach, knocking the breath out of him as we fell down.

We fell hard, his head knocking against the ground and my knee connecting with his boot, which caused us both to wince at the pain we were experiencing. I opened my eyes, and saw stars swarming around my head as I leaned slowly away from the guy's lean stomach, the smell of leather and barbeque wafting through my nose.

Unluckily, he'd wrapped his arms around my shoulders so I'd fall down with him. Luckily, Kate got another five yards, which put us at the forty yard line, before she was gently brought to the ground by a biker, his boots was kicking up dirt as he softened her fall. What was the difference between that skank and me, other than the fact that I didn't run around on my boyfriend and was still a virgin?

The dude I'd tackled, who's name was Billy, rolled out form underneath me and jumped up, extending his hand so I had some assistance in getting up. Usually, I would've slapped his hand away and gotten up myself just to prove how tough I was, but I knew that I'd probably hurt the guy's feelings and I didn't want to do that. Heck, I actually liked him, even though I'd just tackled the hell out of him.

My hand went easily into his, and his wrapped itself around my wrist as he pulled me carefully open, aware that I'd bashed my knee against the toe of his steel-toed boot. He wrapped his arm gingerly around my shoulders, cautiously testing to see what I'd do. When I didn't shrink away, he settled it on my shoulders more firmly, pulling me against his side so he could take some weight off my knee.

When I was up with Billy's arm around my shoulders and we were headed toward the line, I heard the yells of the people on the sidelines, and I realized they were hollering at me, at the way I'd brought this big, honking dude to the ground. I couldn't help the victorious smile that spread across my lips.

Billy started to chuckle, and I looked up at him in his deep green eyes questioningly, a small, friendly smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Fang told us not to hurt y'all girls, when y'all are hurtin' us," he explained, laughing down at me.

I laughed as he removed his arm from around my shoulders and walked back to where he was supposed to be lined up on the defensive line, a smile still playing at his lips. Hmm, I liked him. Not like I did Fang or Dylan, or brotherly like Ratchet, Ig, and Gas, but enough to where I wasn't uncomfortable around him. Which counted for a lot against these hicks, because I still wasn't totally comfortable around them.

Ratchet snapped the ball to Fang and, since I was actually paying attention this time, I launched myself down the field, my soggy sneakers squeaking as I dashed down to where Ari was headed, to the forty on Mac's teams' side. I followed, although I could easily outrun Ari if I wanted to, but he had a huge advantage over me at being able to catch the ball and run with it.

There was about three defenders down here, all with their eyes watching us and Fang simultaneously, which was something I could probably never do considering my wildfire attraction toward our QB.

It was easy to run pass them, and I caught up with Ari, who was now circling back around so he could watch what Fang did. I turned too, not really caring about circling like he'd done, and I watched as Fang let the ball go, sending it flying high through the air.

His pass was absolute perfection; it didn't wobble once and was sailing at amazing speeds and surprising heights, headed toward its target, which I predicted to be Ari, who was several yards off to my left now.

But when I looked at it again, it wasn't heading for Ari; the freaking ball was headed toward _me. _Me, Maximum Ride, six-feet even girl who was a forward on the basketball team and the 500-yard dash champion in my distract. Me, who had never played this game and had no idea how to master the art of football.

Remember earlier when I asked how hard can it be? Well, turns out it can be a hell of a lot harder than you think. Especially when you see the ball sailing toward you and open your arms to catch it. So never ask yourself how hard can it be, because you jinx yourself and you figure out that it's about as hard as finding a needle in a haystack.

My eyes started to blur with sweat as the ball landed hard in my hands, forcing me to step backward so I wouldn't topple over. It was a well-thrown pass, made by someone who could – or at least _should –_ be in the major leagues. It hit right where it was supposed to, right in my chest, so I could wrap my arms around it and take off.

I stood there staring down at it in astonishment for a moment, wondering how Fang could've completed a forty-yarder, and how he'd gotten so good at this game. Had he played in high school? Played in college but dropped out when his Dad had that accident? Or had he just gotten so good at watching it on TV, memorizing and mimicking the moves on a daily basis.

I didn't have time contemplate these questions because I had three big, burly biker-men running at me full throttle, and I realized that I had the ball. Quenching my fear, I said I colorful four-letter word and turned around, taking off like a scorned dog as the bikers raced after me, their big, black boots carrying them better than I thought possible.

My loose hair was slapping me in the face, rocketing in my mouth and momentarily blinding me before I swiped it away, huffing loudly. I really needed to get it cut, even though it wasn't that long, barely to my upper back. But it was really starting to tick me off, and I liked it way better when I was curly and too heavy to be blown all around.

I could see Ari running alongside me, cheering as he raced me toward the goal line, where a giant sign that read _Poteau Pirates _in big red letters. The people on the sidelines were screaming thunderously, either in complete incredulity or vexation. It didn't matter, because I couldn't care less as I darted to toward the end-zone, my feet kicking up dirt as I pulled out of reach of the bikers, dwindling down the distance between me and the end-zone.

Thirty yards, twenty-five yards, twenty, fifteen yards, ten, five... TOUCHDOWN!

I crossed the goal line, my face practically splitting in half from the giant triumphant smile that spread across my face. I'd done it. Not that I had any doubts that I couldn't (which was a lie, because I believed that a ferret could do better than me). But none of that stopped the fluid happiness and excitement that warmed my body, or the way my hands were shaking as I held the brown, pigskin ball out at arms length, studying it with scrutinizing eyes.

I jumped in the air, spinning on my heel and watching as everyone was jogging after me, Fang and Dylan in the front, huge smiles on their faces. Yeah, I know that's cheesy, but it ain't my fault. It's what happened. I smiled timidly as they neared, feeling shy and bashful at the touchdown I'd just scored.

I told you Fang always won. No matter what.

But my smile immediately disappeared when I saw the red and blue lights flashing from behind and the siren that froze me in my tracks as I watched my same expression of horror cloud everyone else's face. Expect for Fang's, because he was just badass like that, I guess.

I dropped the football in fear and stood where I was standing, paralyzed by trepidation as the others ran up and stopped dead where I was standing. Some, the smart people, even hung back, around the twenty. But Fang, the one who would always take responsibility for his actions, casually walked toward the fence.

"Hey, Johnny," Fang called, and I turned around to see the guy he was talking to. There was a guy, about twenty-five with black hair and blue eyes, leaning against the chain-length fence nonchalantly, wearing dark blue Levi's and a gray Poteau Police Department T-shirt, which was tight and was accenting his nice, lean chest. "Didn't know you were out tonight."

The Johnny guy shrugged, waving for his partner to stay in the car. "Boss called me in just a minute ago, sayin' there was a kid with an ole red Challenger that had a fifteen on the side. Now, who else 'round here's got a car like that, Travis?"

Fang's body tensed at his actual name, and Dylan and the guys walked over with him, followed by me, because, for some reason, I couldn't let Fang go through this by himself. Which was just freaking weird, because he wasn't going through anything yet, and I should feel more obligated to Dylan than any boy at that moment.

"Hey, Johnny. Been a while, hasn't it?" Dylan asked, going to stand beside Fang and lean against the fence. I walked up timidly, squeezing in between Fang and Dylan. Fang's side was pressed tightly against mine, his searing heat traveling from his body to mine, warming me up even though I wasn't cold. In fact, I was hotter than I should have been in the middle of October.

It was so tense here that I could practically see it in the air, which was horrible. I wonder what had happened to make Fang and Johnny so weary about each other. Did they get into a fight over a girl? Did Fang get in trouble with ole Johnny Law and spend the night in jail? Or had Fang gotten Johnny in trouble with the sheriff from acting like a dumbass?

"Dylan, didn't know you were down. Shoulda called first, man. We'd have gotten together before you went to Travis's party," Johnny said, giving Dylan an insufficiently excited high-five.

Something inside me broke at his indifferent tone, and I said roughly, "He did. He called Fang."

Johnny, as if noticing me for the first time, looked at me squished in between Fang and Dylan, my brown eyes glowing with anger at how he was treating both of my boys. Johnny laughed humorlessly at me, and I was offended, and almost jumped over the fence to kick his ungrateful ass. I would've too, not even caring that he was a cop, but Fang's arm was wrapped around my waist to hold me there or calm me down, out of sight of Johnny.

"Are you Travis's new play toy, girlie?" he asked with so much acid and accusation that Dylan stepped on my toe so I wouldn't fly over the fence. Dylan and Fang both tensed up at this words, and I felt raw anger flying throughout my body. His eyes were roaming over my face, and lingered over my chest for a moment too long, and that sent me pushing closer against Fang in exasperation and distress.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Fang beat me to it. Which was for the best, I guess, because I would've lashed out and not stopped till I was in the back on the car on my way to the station.

"Leave her the hell alone, Johnny," Fang said, his voice low and deep with frustration just clawing to be released. "What do you want?"

Johnny, understanding that Fang was not in the mood to be messed with, sighed and said. "Get lost, Travis. You know what Mama and Daddy will do if they know you been bendin' the rules and breakin' the law again. Growin' up you was always Mama's angel. Never thought you'd ever fall from grace. You was taught to walk, you gotta run from trouble. But you ran with a crowd that was bond to change your ways. You're the only hell Mama has ever raised, Travis."

"Go to hell, Johnny," Ratchet barked out from beside Fang, his voice carrying deadly daggers. "You know we ain't done nothin' wrong." _Yet, _I mentally added.

Johnny hissed in a breath, his own anger boiling almost over the top. "Well, hey there, Brandon. Guess you didn't know that you're starting to be just like Travis," Johnny said, using Ratchet's real name, I guess, and looking at him with so much disrespect that I was offended again. "You boys are lucky that I'm your brother and can get you off the hook this time. Now go, before I let Mikey take y'all in like I should."

With that, Johnny turned around and headed back toward the Charger, opening the door to the driver side and climbing in. He then angrily peeled out, slinging gravel on us. Fang tucked my head against his shoulder so I wouldn't get hit, and wouldn't let me go till I couldn't hear the Charger anymore.

Okay, so Johnny was Fang's and Ratchet's older brother? That right there was enough to put an end to all the swarming question in my brain and also add some new ones. What had happened between these three brothers to make them hate each other so much? Brothers shouldn't fight each other. It wasn't natural or right. Boys are stubborn and prideful, and wouldn't give in to anything unless it was life threatening. I've learned that from my brother.

After Johnny was gone and the tension was visibly lifted from everyone's shoulders, Fang removed his arm from around me and spun around, the heated encounter with his brother forgotten as he grinned. "Well, you heard him. Let's roll," he said easily, starting toward the gates that were at the other end of the field.

"Where to now, Fang?" Star asked, looking up at her future brother-in-law with her gorgeous blue eyes.

Fang smiled down at her, his own beautiful eyes so much different than hers because they were a deep, dark brown, almost black. "We're goin' swimmin' in Cowskin," he said lightly, wrapping his arms around Star's shoulders brotherly as they headed toward the gate.

I was left standing there, with my left eye twitching. Swimming? Did he freaking just say swimming? It was, like, fifty degrees out, which was cold as hell to me. I didn't know about them, but I really didn't feel like going swimming in the middle of an October night. Was that wrong with that boy?

Didn't he remember that I'd recently face-planted in a freaking pond? Why the hell would I want to go swimming after that? Was he stupid, or was his anger clouding up his mind? Dammit, I didn't see myself getting the answers to them questions any time soon.

Shrugging it off as if swimming wasn't a problem considering I'd just _fell into a freaking pond_, I started walking again, following a hillbilly and a biker as they talked about the game earlier, when Oklahoma beat Texas 58 to 23 in the Red River Rivalry, which just made me laugh.

And then I remembered where we were going, and I shuddered because I knew I was about to freeze my ass off. Again, for the second time in, like, two hours.

_**Okay, okay, okay! what did ya think of that? better than the other one, but not the best. Heck, I didn't even have no idea I'd make Fang have a brother that he hated be on the police force and make them hate each other. But that's common where I live. Family feuds, usually over stupid stuff but always taken to heart. **_

_**Anyhow, I incorporated the lyrics to a song in there by Brantley Gilbert called Bending The Rules and Breaking The Law. **_

_**Bending The Rules and Breaking The Law:**__You know what Mama and Daddy will do if they know you were bendin' the rules and breakin' the law again. Growin' up you was always Mama's angel. Never thought you'd ever fall from grace. You was taught to walk, you gotta run from trouble. But you ran with a crowd that was bond to change your ways. You're the only hell Mama has ever raised_

_**I spiced it up a little though, so it would sound better. But it's still badass I think. **_

_**~ SoonerMagic **_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Ok, I hope none of y'all were too disappointed at the previous two chapters. At least this one will have a little Fax, but not so much that it kinda ruins the story. A little, but not a lot. Just how I like it. :) BTW: SO SO SO SO SO sorry for not updating! I hadn't had enough time to write cuz school had started and I'm in advanced classes and they're harder than you freakin' think!**_

_**Currently, as I'm writing this, I am reading the book 13 Reasons Why and it is so sweet! It really makes you wonder how people are gonna remember you after death. And all I know is that, when I die, people ain't gonna remember me for how I acted, but what I did. That's how I see it, anyhow. I'll write a note or record a cassette like the book. **_

_**Also, I just recently finished the book The Forest of Hands and Teeth, and am impatiently awaiting the next book in the series. And get this: I CRIED 3 freaking times in that book! and I never cry! Which means it's one hell of a good book, but to me it lacked important detail. I had no idea what the guys looked like, so I assumed they were all hot as the sun, hot as I imagine Fang is. **_

_**I highly recommend both of them books, even though it'll make the emotional bawl like a baby since I CRIED in them. And I still blame my friend for telling me to read them. **_

_**Anyhow, let's get on with the show! Oh, and all the places mentioned in this story are real; I have family in that part of Oklahoma and I visit quite a lot. Just a tip, so you wouldn't think anything was fake, cuz it ain't. **_

_**(A little warning: this chapter contains partial nudity and/or sexual situations. So don't freak)**_

_**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC, THE PISSED OFF LOVE-SICK TEENAGER**_

Okay, so Johnny was Fang and Ratchet's brother? That fact, I understood without I doubt in my mind; looking back now, I realized I could see the resemblance in the three with their black hair, height, and lean build. But their eyes were completely different. Ratchet's was a deep, swampy green, Johnny's a light sky blue, and Fang's a dark, almost-black brown.

But something still bugged me. What had happened between them to make them hate each other so much? And what would it take to make the three forget and forgive? I contemplated those question as I walked behind Fang, his arm still wrapped around Star's shoulders. I knew Fang didn't love Star in that way, and she adored Ratchet, so I didn't feel threatened by that way they were leaning close together, huddling as if in deep conversation.

From where I was standing behind them, I could see that Fang's stunning butt was shaped unashamedly well in his tight Wranglers, and I couldn't stop the thought that entered my mind at that moment. _His butt would fit perfectly in my hands, and I wouldn't mind trying it. _

Blushing madly, I looked down and watched my feet as they absentmindedly followed after Fang's, feeling the heat fly up my neck and spread out over my face. I'd never been one to get embarrassed easily, but something about that hillbilly was making me all crazy.

I wasn't me when I was around him; it was like I was someone else, and I'd never felt that alien feeling when I was with Dylan before. For some reason, knowing that Fang was different from all the other boys I knew, that made me uncomfortable. I didn't know why, though. In fact, I couldn't answer a lot of questions that had begun swirling in my head since I arrived here.

Hell, it's not like I freaking asked to be here. It's not like I even wanted to come. It's not like I asked to be so damned attracted to Fang. It's not my fault that I was having doubts about my wonderful relationship. It's not like I wanted to be thrown in the middle of three feuding brothers, and a very ticked off cousin. It wasn't like I'd asked to be shown around a country boy's world.

But somehow I'd gotten myself into this jacked-up mess, and I was going to have to get myself out. Because, whether you or I like it, I was still a city-slicker in an area that was so freaking unfamiliar where they did anything they wanted to without caring what other people thought.

But in those statements lies a question that I had no chance of answering due to my current mental state. How the heck do I expect to get out of this place? Feel free to answer, like always, and I understood that I was really beginning to rely on you more than I should. This is my life, right? It was my choice to do anything I pleased, but your suggestion would be greatly appreciated right about now.

Fishing my phone out of my back pocket, I unlocked it and typed in my passcode without looking (I'm just good like that). I brought it to eye level, my gaze looking at but not really seeing the picture of me and my younger siblings. There was me at eighteen, and then Ella at seventeen, and Ari would be sixteen in a few months.

I smiled pridefully as I studied the picture with blurry eyes. Ari had just came from football practice, and so he was still in his padding and jersey, and his face was red with sweat glistening on it. Ella, who was in the middle, had just came back from shopping, so she had about ten bags on each arm and was wearing a new midnight blue minidress with white swirls. I was on the far right, trying to shrink away from the picture, my hair down and blowing in my face, making me even more ticked off than I already was.

That was us, my family. A nervous teenage boy, a shopaholic girl who had way too much free time on her hands, and a slightly pretty girl who looked as if she was about to behead someone. What can I say? You can't pick your family.

Suddenly, I really missed my sister and noticed that I should've insisted that she come instead of hanging out with her stupid-ass boyfriend. She'd always been so much more smooth with guys than I was, and I wished that I'd have been born with all her boy-brains. She really came in handy in handy during moments when I felt like I was close to swallowing my tongue.

You see, our parents were away in Oklahoma City at the current moment, probably either there for a tiny getaway or on business, and wouldn't be back till early tomorrow morning, which is why Ella was out with her man and Ari was at a party with me. No matter what you may think, my parents were pretty overprotective, and would never have allowed me to come to this party with my little brother if they knew we'd be bendin' the rules and breakin' the law, as Johnny had put it.

I chuckled at that quote, comprehending that I'd heard it before on a song not so long ago. I believe it was called Bending The Rules and Breaking The Law, courtesy of the ever-popular Brantley Gilbert. In fact, I'd been hearing a lot of his music lately, in and around Tulsa, and he wasn't that bad of a singer. Not the best, but not the worst. And he was pretty hot.

Abruptly, I heard Fang call over his shoulder, and his deeply, sexy, irresistible drawl grabbed me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see that we were nearing the gates. "Ratchet, you take my car. I'm drivin' the truck."

Which was fine by me, deeming in my mind that I'd be riding with him again. His old, black, mud-caked Chevrolet Silverado wasn't as stylish or shiny as his Challenger, but it had way more room so I wouldn't be so smashed against Fang and Iggy. But right at that moment, I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A tight knot formed in my stomach as I understood that I probably wouldn't be as close to Fang as I'd been before, and the knot kept getting firmer till it was almost painful. Full of longing, wanting, needing. Longing for him, even though I had Dylan. Wanting Fang like I'd never wanted anyone before in my life. And needing him, like it was more important than breathing. Which, if I'm right like I think I am, is pretty darn important.

And, trust me, if you can't understand what that feeling was about, there ain't no way in hell I knew. Which made me miss my sister even more.

With a crestfallen expression, I walked through the gate, ducking between Fang and Ratchet as they exchanged keys. Ella would really benefit me in being here, and I wanted her here, more than I would ever admit aloud. She was a real booster-upper, and I needed to be boosted-up.

Sighing, I zigzagged through the lot that was full of cars, relying on my eyes to be able to spot the black Silverado in the faint light coming from the field. I'd passed the Challenger, and a strong wave of stabbing longing skewered throughout my body. I really liked that car; it was badass. And it just made Fang seem ever more badass, too.

Finally, after what felt like years of looking at thousands of many distinct trucks with the brand names Chevrolet, Ford, and Dodge (those three seemed to be the most popular types) I found the black truck I was looking for.

It was parked up against a building with a red roof and white structure, which I assumed was the concession. In the feeble light, I could make out the steel running-boards that lined the bottom of the truck, either there to look cool or assist people as they hopped in because it was lifted pretty far off the ground with 33 inch tires. I could just barely see a gun rack that hung in the back glass, loaded with what looked to be a 25.06 Medallion.

Smirking with an entertained look about me, I slung open the passenger door and hopped in, not even waiting on Fang or the others. I shut the door and pushed the console up, scooting over into the middle to where I was facing the steel bleachers. The smirk was still gracing my lips with its presence, and I had a feeling it would probably stay there for a while.

Looking at the ignition, I saw that the keys were still dangling, with a deep crimson-colored bow, like something that would go in a child's hair. Which came off as strange – were you a child molester, Fang? – till I remembered Angel, who was just barely seventeen. She'd probably put it that, and Fang hadn't cared enough to remove it.

Chuckling softly to myself, I reached over and turned the key, starting the engine. A blast of warm air immediately connected with my face, and I was taken aback, slamming against the seat. I muttered a few words, fiddling with it till it had ceased its tenacious blowing. And just when I was settled back against the seat, all four doors were jerked open, scaring the hell out of me.

Surely you know that feeling you get when someone sneaks up on you. It's not the best, but it's a part of life. The blood and adrenaline pumping overtime throughout your entire body, racing toward your heart and sending it into overdrive. You see, it really wasn't the best feeling in the world, and I'd have loved to feel anything but absolute fear swimming through my body at that moment.

To me credit, I didn't jump and scream like I so desperately wanted to, but my eyes did fly open instantaneously and a shocked gasp made its way from my lips. I mean, seriously? Can't you give someone a warning when you're going to freaking sneak up on someone? I could've spazzed and had a heart attack. At least I didn't, though.

Fang, who was on my left, hoisting himself up, looked at me and gave me one of his spine-tingling, body-shuddering grins. "Scare you?" he asked, and I felt like I should hit him from the complete arrogance in his tone. But I didn't.

Deciding to play it cool and pretend that his grin hadn't affected me in the least, I shrugged in answer, not trusting my voice. "Not really. I heard you guys coming," I said nonchalantly, as if it wasn't anything. Which, if you had any brains at all, you'd know that I was lying through my teeth.

Fang, either seeming to not catch my lie or just plain stupid, shut his door, scooting over till our thighs were touching. My breath hitched in my throat as he did so, and Iggy pushed me even closer to Fang.

Was I complaining at all? No, because A) my voice would probably crack with trepidation and embarrassment, and B) my breath was still unfortunately stuck in the back of my throat. Yeah, I didn't like that. But I did like being close to Fang again, and having an excuse to breath in his scent.

But his nearness didn't affect me like it did those first several times. I guess maybe it was because I'd gotten used to it, or I'd become immune to his practically-irresistible charm. Regardless of which scenario was the explanation, I couldn't help but sigh in relief, because that meant that I possibly wouldn't embarrass myself further around him.

Fang jerked the gearshift into _D, _waiting on the others in the back to shut their doors before taking off because he was just so careful like that. Either that, or he didn't want to sling anyone out on accident, which would've been hilarious had my brother not been a possibility of being the one slung out.

When everyone was in and secured by the seatbelt, Fang pushed down on the gas with a gentleness that came as such a shock to me considering this was the same dude who'd just drag raced and almost collided with two freaking vehicles, one an eighteen-wheeler. I shivered at that thought; he'd scared the hell out of me.

Iggy must have noticed the way I shivered violently, because I raised his hand and placed it over my forehead, a concerned expression obscuring his handsome face as he checked for a fever. "You feelin' okay? You don't look so hot, Max," he said, removing his hand after fathoming that I didn't have a fever.

Before I could say I was fine, Fang rested his hand on my knee cap – which sent indescribable sensations erupting in my body – and gripping it gently yet with growing forcefulness till I was looking up at him, his frayed hat concealing his face. "Don't worry, Ig. She'll feel better once she's in the water," Fang said, his amused voice giving away nothing as we pulled out into the traffic.

Ha, and get this freaking shiznit? I had the strangest (though probably correct) sense that he was telling the truth.

**PAGE BREAK (I DON'T HAVE ANY TIME TO PUT THAT LINE IN HERE SINCE I UPLOAD AT SCHOOL AND WRITE AT HOME! SORRY!:O)**

Cowskin creak is a long, winding, rocky creek in between the small, overlooked town of Monroe, that I was continuously starting to love. Cowskin was the first creek you came to headed toward Arkansas through Monroe; exactly a quarter-mile down the road, was another creek called Sugarloaf Creek, named after the towering mountain that overshadowed Monroe.

There was a compacted dirt road off to my left, right before you crossed the bridge of Cowskin, that looked as if it led down to the water. Fang pulled off onto it, taking his feet slightly off the gas because the road was washed out from the additional amount of rain they have received over the years.

The road was jerky and bumpy, and every time Fang would hit a pothole I was thrown against either him or Iggy, which I didn't appreciate too much considering the lurching was starting to irritate my stomach. I couldn't wait to get in the water, even though it was, like, fifty degrees out.

I handled the jerks and lurches with horrible ease, and thanked the good Lord when Fang pulled to a stop by the stony bank. The full moon shining overhead was glinting mystifyingly off the murky water, giving it an eerie greenish-blue glow. I suddenly had second thoughts about swimming in this creek since I couldn't see the bottom, and it looked like it was dirty. But if these girls could do it, you can bet your hidden stash of tootsie-rolls I could too. Although complaining could possibly be involved on my part.

Ratchet pulled up on our left side, the Challenger slinging gravel as it was forced into a sudden stop. Fang turned off the truck and slung open the door, allowing me the view of watching Maya step out of the passenger side of the Challenger, all the while giving Fang a suggesting smile as he too hopped out.

Bile found its way up my throat, threatening to choke me up, and I knew at that moment that Fang was right. I would feel way better once I was in the water. Especially if that flirtatious skank was no where in my sight. Preferably somewhere so something could eat her. Or was that being too drastic? I didn't think so.

I wonder what she'd do if she found out what Fang had said about her? That she was just a friend and nothing more. Hell, I'd pay to see her reaction to that. I grinned at the thought, realizing that Fang liked me better over that whore. And I liked it that way.

Fang had left the door open for me to scoot my way out, but that maneuver involved having to climb over the console at my feet, and I really didn't feel like doing that, so I leaped out after Iggy.

When my feet hit the ground, due to my momentum of launching myself out and the loose gravel that was laying everywhere, they slipped out from underneath me and I fell back. My head would've collided with the steel running-boards on the undersides of the truck if Iggy hadn't have caught me around the waist and yanked me up.

Don't even get me started over how ticked off that made me.

My face, already flustered and blushing, turned into a bright red as Iggy stared down at me, concern written across his face. He didn't let me go, but instead pulled me closer, but not in a perverted way like that. More like brotherly, like he was protecting me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his hot breath fanning my cool cheeks. From being this close, I could see the golden flecks that were flickering with luminescence, making his eyes ablaze. But don't worry; even though I thought Iggy was also one of the hottest guy's I'd ever saw – Ratchet and the Gasman were too, although Gazzy was more cuter than hot – I didn't feel wildly attracted to him like I did Fang.

I nodded, clearing my throat and pushing myself away from him without trying to be mean. "Positive," I said, and just to make it more believable I flashed him a toothy grin. He matched it with is own.

Nodding my thanks to him, I ducked and went around him, headed for the front of the truck where Fang, Ratchet, and a few others were waiting. When I'd rounded the side of the hulking black truck and Fang saw me, he displayed a saucy smile that sent my body into delirious trembling. Not that I didn't like it.

I slightly wondered where my boyfriend was, but then I realized that I didn't care. Not really.

"Ready to jump in?" Fang asked me, walking over and casually wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling my unresisting body against his. The only thing I could do in answer was nod my head. His side rumbled with a deep chuckle, and he pulled me impossibly tighter. "Good."

I shrugged off that primal need to get closer, and looked up at him, understanding that he was leading us away from everyone else, down the bank to where some rocks were gracing the waters edge.

"Where we headed?" I wondered aloud, my voice sounding odd, like it was deprived of oxygen. Was I scared to be alone with him? Eh, not really, because I knew he wouldn't try anything. But after what happened back at the bar... We had both better be careful with the way we flaunt ourselves together in public in the near future.

He shrugged, which made me shrug too considering we were connected to each other. "There's a place a ways down here that I like. It's deeper, and not a lot of people swim there," he answered, his hat still hiding his face. I was really getting pissed off at the freaking hat.

Acting on impulse, I snatched the hat from his head and plopped it onto mine, adjusting it so it wouldn't cover my eyes. Fang jumped slightly in surprise and I giggled, but he made no move to grab it back. Although he did balance it better for me.

It was well after dark, around ten-thirty or so, and I could barely see a thing. My city eyes weren't used to this darkness, where there were no lights shining and nobody blaring music at a party. If I looked up at the sky, I could see all the stars the city lights and buildings had hid from me previous nights. You know what? I liked this dark way better than the dark in the city.

The creek was fairly narrow, only about thirty or so feet across. But from what I could tell it was pretty deep in the middle. It looked like it was cool, and I knew it would feel amazing against my heated skin.

Apparently, my thoughts had taken up more time than I'd intended, and when I was finished I saw that we had stopped and were both staring at the water from a rock perched high on the bank. We were still close enough to the others that we could hear their voices even if we couldn't make any words out. It was peaceful, being here alone with Fang, staring at the water in blissful silence.

But then that dumbass had to go and break it.

"Well, let's hope in," he whispered huskily in my ear, removing his arm from around my shoulders. I looked down at him, a little irritated that he'd broken the tranquil silence between us, and he flashed me a devil-may-care smile. He almost immediately went to work on his shoes, reaching down to slip his boots off.

I watched him remove his shoes and socks, stuffing them in his boots. Then he leaned back up and reached for the hem of his black-as-midnight T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Even in the immense darkness, I could see his tanned, lean muscles, rippling excitingly on his back and chest whenever he moved.

I was in awe; my chin was on the ground and I felt a drop of drool leave my mouth. The first thought in my mind was, _Holy shit! This dude is stripping in front of me! _But then I remembered that we were going swimming, and that thought changed into, _Oh my, I get to go swimming with a guy that looked like _that_? _Totally worth being drug to a party I didn't even want to go to in the first place.

A pleasurable ache commenced in the pit of my stomach, making its way throughout my entire body, leaving a trail of fiery passion in its wake. I knew I shouldn't feel this way, not when Dylan was probably over with the other's looking for me. But I couldn't help it; it just – _happened. _It wasn't like I had any control over what my body felt. Oh wait, I did actually. Well, not at that moment.

By the time I had calmed my racing heart, Fang was working on his Wranglers and was out of them in about a second later, clad in his boxers as he dove into the creek, rewarding me with a resounding splash and thousands of droplets of water finding there way to my body. I looked at him as he emerged, his glossy black hair limp with water and his face shimmering.

"You comin' in or not?" he asked, his voice filled with humor as he watched the way his body affected me. And he freaking knew it.

I shrugged indifferently, wanting to pretend I didn't car even though I was practically goggling him. "Turn around," I said, crossing my arms. Yeah, I was modest. Got a problem with it?

Fang laughed but did as I had ordered him, swiveling around in the water and facing the ominous-looking trees that lined the left side of the bank. The wind picked up slightly, and I shivered before starting on my sneakers.

After I'd wrestled with kicking my shoes off, I reached for the hem of my/Fang's white T-shirt and yanked it up over my head, revealing my sky blue and hot pink striped undershirt. I decided to leave that on as I unzipped Maya's jeans, sticking my thumbs in the sides and pushing them down.

And then I was naked except for my white lacy panties, pink bra, and striped undershirt. I'd been together with Dylan for almost a year, and he'd only seen me like this once when he walked in on me in the bathroom. But here I was, standing in front of Fang, who I'd only known a short while.

"You done?" he asked, spinning back around even though I didn't say anything. He had a half-smirk on his lips, but when his eyes landed on me, it disappeared. His eyes clouded over with lust, and he took in my body hungrily, but I didn't feel scared or ashamed like when Roland and Johnny had done it. It felt natural, letting him look at me.

Before any of my courage wavered, I jumped in, holding my arms over my chest protectively. I landed in the cold water, going under and letting the gloominess wash over me, cleansing me of all the wrong I've done and have yet to do.

After several seconds, I surfaced about a foot from Fang, kicking and spurting water. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine intimately for something that was unknown to me. My brown hair was plastered against my face, shielding him from my immediate view. But I knew he was there, because his presence was unmistakable.

"Who are you, Fang?" I asked unexpectedly, pushing the soggy hair from my face and looking at him. We were slowly circling each other, and I could tell by the puzzled look in his eyes that he was confused and taken aback by my random question. So, to make it more clear, I said, "What's your history?"

Fang was still slightly confused, looking at me through shaded eyes. I barely saw him shrug, the water surrounding him making tiny waves at his every movement. "What do you mean, Max?" he retorted with a question, wanting to know what I meant before he answered.

I sighed, as if it ticked me off that I had to explain myself. Which it did, actually. "Everyone has a story, a history. What's yours?" Well, if that was simplified in the easiest of ways, he needed to have his brain checked.

He chuckled, and I felt offended because he was laughing at my question, not taking it seriously. "You're nosy, you know that?" he replied, looking at me with his head turned sideways, a ghost of a smile gracing his lush lips. He sighed exasperatedly. "It's a long damn story."

I comprehended that he was using the length of the story against me, in hopes of shying away from answering. Well, that ain't gonna happen, hot stuff! "We have time," I responded, smiling secretly.

He grinned at me, forcing himself back so he could lounge on his back for a while. I didn't appreciate the image he had presented me with, so I turned on my back too, my cheeks heating up. That ache was back in my stomach.

"Well, I was born on March eighth, nineteen-ninety-two at Poteau hospital. I started school on August fourteenth a Howe, but then moved to Poteau my freshman year to play football. I graduated there two years ago, and now here I am," he said, his arms reaching out till his hands intertwined with mine and pulled me closer.

I snorted at his lame story, my heart pounding from being partially naked with this boy whom I was too intensely attracted to. "You can do better than that, Fang," I chastised him playfully, squeezing his hand harder as we stared up at the same glittering sky. "Give me details. Who was your first kiss? What scared you when you were a child? Who was your first love? Why are you the way you are?"

Fang almost busted a gut laughing at my questions, his sudden movements causing him to sink and me to follow. He pulled us both back up before we were submerged under the water, his deep, enchanting laugh making me laugh too.

"Wow," he said after a minute, rubbing my hand with his thumb. "Stacy McConnell was my first kiss, and it only happened 'cause Ratchet bet me twenty bucks I didn't have the balls to kiss her."

I giggled at his reason, although I couldn't stop the pang of jealousy that ran rampant through my body. I wished it had been me he'd kissed first, because I wouldn't have waited for his brother to bet him that he'd do it. I'd have made the first move, because Fang was worth the awkwardness of insinuating the kiss.

"What scared me when I was a kid was my Pap's old barn in the pasture," he said, looking up at the sky with hallow eyes, not really seeing the magnificent image. "He'd always told all of us that it was haunted by an old Civil War ghost, and we believed him. Back in middle school, we'd always dare each other to go in it, but we were all too chicken. We tore it down a few years back 'cause it was starting to cave in. I still miss it."

He took a deep breath, his hand releasing mine and snaking up the underside of my arm toward my shoulder blade, sending heart-pounding shivers through my body. He stopped just shy of my shoulder and started to run his fingers, butterfly-soft, down my side, pulling me closer my grabbing onto my undershirt. He repeated that erratic action one more time before continuing.

"My first love was Daisy Duke in them cut off jeans," he said, laughing at his own foolishness when he was a child. "I was eight when I fell in love with Miss Daisy. But my real first love was a girl I met my junior year. Her name was Mattie Masterson, and she had the longest blonde hair that I used to run my hands through whenever we were alone. She ended up cheatin' on me, though."

Sorrow rushed through my senses, and I rubbed my bare leg against his calf muscle, letting him know that I'd been cheated on before too. And it wasn't the best thing in the world to happen to you. You felt worthless, like nobody would love you now that you knew that you weren't good enough for someone to date. It really crushes a person's confidence.

He huffed an angry breath, and continued. "Screw her. She winded up movin' back to Arkansas, and the last I heard she was 'bout to have her second baby. They caught her in the gym with our English teacher." His tone was full of hatred, and I realized that this Mattie chick had really hurt him. But that seemed almost impossible. In encouragement and understanding, I ran my leg down his side like he was doing to me.

"And how did I get to be the way I am today?" he said, turning to face me and smiling an actual smile, even though he'd been cheated on. "I drove my Daddy's truck off of Dead Man's Curve after drinkin' my fifth beer, and I fed hogs tryin' to pay him off most of my senior year. I got my jaw jacked by a big ole boy after messin' 'round with his girlfriend. She was short and tiny and she kissed just right, but I'll never do that again."

I'd started to laugh, and Fang had joined in. I wonder how pissed off his Daddy had been when the man had found out his son had wrecked his truck? Or how bad the break was in his jaw? It wasn't funny, not really, from the pain and handwork he had to endure. But it was, because it'd happened to him. Oh well, at least he was able to laugh at himself unlike some people.

"I been kicked in the face by a horse 'cause I ran up too fast behind him. And I shook hands on a deal with a man, and found out he was lyin'," he said, our laughing coming in silent guffaws now. "I've broken a couple good girls' hearts 'cause I said I loved 'em knowin' I couldn't. And I've given my heart to a woman, who said she'd stay when I knew she wouldn't."

My laughing was renewed at this new piece of information, and I had to be careful so I wouldn't lose my concentration and sink. Fang had begun to get courageous, and his fingers were trailing further south than I had intended. But I didn't mind.

"I'll admit I've been burned, but I've lived and I've learned from it. I've made some mistakes, but that's what it takes to make a man out of a kid. Yeah, I've done some pretty stupid things but hey. I'm a little bit harder and a whole lot smarter. That's how I got to be this way."

By the end of his little stories, I was laughing so hard that I had tears rolling down my face, mixing in with the water droplets cascading down my face. Fang had done all that? Well, in my mind, he was no boy; any one who'd gone through what he'd gone through was to be considered a man. And that's what he was.

"What about Roland, Fang?" I asked through my laughter, sounding breathless. "What'd he do that made you punch him?" Suddenly, I had the strangest desire to know the answer to that question.

"Don't matter," he said in answer, his laughing immediately discontinuing. "He said somethin' and it made me mad, so I got him back."

That sucky response wasn't going to settle my knowledge-deprived brain, Fang. You should know that I was persistent by now. "Come on, Fang. Just tell me."

He turned his head to the side, his fathomless gaze meeting my eyes and then slowly moving down, toward my lips. Simultaneously, we both rightened ourselves in the water, facing each other. We were close, so close, and I wrapped my arms gingerly around his neck, pulling my body closer to his.

Fang grinned at me willingness and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against him and onto his lap. His face was close to mine, about six inches apart, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I shouldn't want him to since I had a boyfriend (who was absent at the moment, AGAIN!) but I did. I wanted him to kiss me almost as bad as I wanted to kiss him.

My hands found themselves twined in his shaggy, silky hair, pulling it tight at his nape so he knew how much I wanted him to kiss me. That his sudden feelings were reciprocated. His grip tightened around my waist, and I felt his taunt muscles against my stomach, searing my skin through my thin shirt.

His hands wondered up my back, resting to grip ahold of my shoulders. My bra strap was showing, laying down on my arm, and Fang pushed it back up underneath my shirt. A shiver coursed through my body, and he pulled me closer, if that was even possible.

"Do it," I whispered raspy in encouragement, leaning closer because closer was good, was what we both wanted so desperately. My heart felt like it was about to be yanked from my chest; he was taking too damn long.

But, of course, with every good thing in my life, I had to have that one person who ruined it all. In this case, it was some bitch I didn't even know. How convenient.

"SNAKE!"

Oh hell no.

_**Be nice, I didn't think it was so terrible. It wasn't, was it? hope not. It was so LONG tho! Oh well, it was pretty cool I guess. **_

_**I put a buncha lyrics in there that belong to Justin Moore, and his song How I Got To Be This Way. Here they are, in case you didn't know. **_

_I drove my Daddy's truck off of Dead Man's Curve after drinkin' my fifth beer, and I fed hogs tryin' to pay him off most of my senior year. I got my jaw jacked by a big ole boy after messin' 'round with his girlfriend. She was short and tiny and she kissed just right, but I'll never do that again._

_I've been kicked in the face by a horse 'cause I ran up too fast behind him. And I shook hands on a deal with a man, and found out he was lyin'," he said, our laughing coming in silent guffaws now. "I've broken a couple good girls' hearts 'cause I said I loved 'em knowin' I couldn't. And I've given my heart to a woman, who said she'd stay when I knew she wouldn't_

_I'll admit I've been burned, but I've lived and I've learned from it. I've made some mistakes, but that's what it takes to make a man out of a kid. Yeah, I've done some pretty stupid things but hey. I'm a little bit harder and a whole lot smarter. That's how I got to be this way_

_**Great song, it's really good. And that really did happen to the singer too. It said so on the video. **_

_**Also, I have had a terrible day. I just found out that my good friend is dating the guy I have liked for FOUR FREAKING YEARS (loved for one)! yeah, it wasn't a good thing to learn, especially when you know he don't like her and she don't like him. Any reviews you leave will majorly count to making me feel better! :)**_

_**Oh, and I have a NEW song list. I don't feel like writing the other songs, so I'm just gonna write the new ones down, got it?**_

_Hillbilly Deluxe: Brooks and Dunn_

_Oklahoma Breakdown: Stoney LaRue_

_Fake ID: Big & Rich ft. Gretchen Wilson_

_Dirt Road Anthem: Brantley Gilbert & Colt Ford _

_Holler Back: The Lost Trailers_

_Too Much Fun: Daryle Singletary _

_G.R.I.T.S.: Brantley Gilbert _

_Mr. Goodtime: Colt Ford_

_Ride Through The Country: Colt Ford ft. John Michael Montgomery _

_Fall Into Me – Brantley Gilbert (for all you romantics out there)_

_Heaven – Jason Aldean _

_**So it's the same deal as the first time. Listen to the songs, watch the video if you need to, but they're all good. You got my word on that. **_

_**~ SoonerMagic **_


	10. Chapter 10

"**Don't hate the player; hate the game." "You gotta catch the biscuit before you can eat it." "There really are only two plays: Romeo and Juliet, and get the darn ball in the basket." "K.I.S.S.: Keep It Simple Stupid." **

**Sorry for all the weird quotes. I'm just so excited for basketball season, and it should be starting here before too long. And I get to be a starter! If I have a game, then the chapters will probably come a little slower, but you'll get 'em. **

**So, what'd ya think of that Faxness in the last chapter? Huh, huh? Was it too suggestive, or not detailed enough? I could really use your advice people! And for the long wait, I made this chapter super long and put some more FAX in it! Read and review people!**

**Well, this note ain't as long as usually, cuz I don't feel too hot and I'm still pissed off beyond belief that my friend is dating my main love interest. SIGH! but you know what they say; Payback's a bitch! **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC, THE SICKLY WANNABE WRITER **

Here's a freebie for all you Max Ride followers: I am absolutely terrified of snakes. Not scared; terrified. There's a huge difference, let me tell you. I'd rather face, like, a freaking crocodile than s snake, even if it was harmless. I'm just that way I guess.

Usually I'm fairly calm when someone shouts out that there's a snake nearby as long as it doesn't get close to me and I don't see it. But when you scream that there is a snake in the water, my first instinct is to get the hell out of the water. That's just me, though; for all I know, you could be totally different. You may get off on the fact that your life was in danger. Sicko.

So, like I said, after the chick hollered about a snake, I jumped up and flew across the water, ripping myself from Fang's arms and refusing the kiss that we had both wanted, if you remember. I was practically all over him, my arms wrapped around his neck and us almost sharing breaths we were so close.

And when I say I got out of that water, I got out. As in, one second you saw me and in the next – _poof – _I was gone. Just. Like. That.

My bare feet pounded onto the bank, tiny particles of rocks digging their way relentlessly into the bottoms of my feet. I winced slightly, grabbing the white shirt I'd thrown on a nearby rock and yanking it over my head. It was long enough to cover my panties – it came halfway to my knees – and so I didn't bother struggling into my jeans at that moment. Then I grabbed my sneakers and socks and started running down the bank toward everyone else, my jeans slung over my shoulder.

My mind was clouded with fear and wanting, and it was then that I remembered Fang, and the fact that I'd pretty much sent him under the water without warning, and I looked back, lifting my right leg up and wrenching my sock on. I saw Fang, sputtering water and wiping his eyes, as he strode in the murky water toward the bank, his lean, tanned upper body glistening in the faint moonlight thanks to the full moon overhead .

I blushed immediately as he climbed out of the water, and I was granted with the unwanted/wanted view of his entire body, shining and glowing beyond belief. His long, lean legs with huge calf muscles, thick muscular thighs and narrow hips that jutted out from his waist. A lean stomach and slender chest dotted with so many muscles, hard pectorals and kickass abs. His biceps and triceps were out of this world, so large that I couldn't fit both hands around them. And don't even got me started on his face...

As if noticing that I was staring at him, Fang turned his head and looked at me, a cute, lopsided, boyish grin playing at his lips. His tanned cheeks were a tad flustered, I could see, and I felt a sudden surge of pride erupt inside me. _I _was the one that made him blush. _I _was the one that had to urge him to kiss me. _I _was the one that made him want to kiss me. It was all _me. _And I was so freaking happy.

Seeing that he was still smiling sweetly at me, I matched it with my own as he struggled into his Wranglers and fastened his golden bull riding belt. He reached down to grab his hat that I had had on and plopped it on his soaking wet head, grabbing his boots and starting toward me, where I was waiting patiently for him, totally forgetting the snake as I stared at him. Dylan didn't even cross my mind as I gazed into his beautiful, dark chocolate eyes.

Before long, Fang was standing directly in front of me, looking down at me with a hidden message in his eyes that I couldn't comprehend. His smile was soft, yet not seductive, like there was no lust between us. We just wanted each other. No lust included.

But I also knew that that little thing which had just happened – you know, with the almost kissing and stuff – that couldn't happen again. Well, not while I was still with Dylan. It wasn't fair to him.

I was about to tell him how it was going to be, that we couldn't do anything like that till I'd said goodbye to Dylan, but before I could he grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the others, tucking my hand against his thigh and out of sight of anyone who might be watching us approach.

Was I embarrassed? Of course I was freaking embarrassed, but I still liked the way it felt to have him hold my hand. The gentlest of gestures after what had just happened between us.

I had to tell him that we couldn't do that no more. It wasn't fair to Dylan, because I was all but cheating on him. It wasn't fair to me either because I was being led on with Fang. And it was't fair to Fang because he was trying to steal me from his cousin. Well, I actually couldn't find anything that was unfair on Fang's part. He gets a one night stand from his cousin's innocent girlfriend.

But the thing about telling him was getting up enough courage to do so. Which was a hell of a lot harder than I thought it'd be. Back in the city, I never had trouble getting up courage whenever I needed to tell someone something, but, as I am constantly reminding myself, I wasn't in the city. I was in the country. Way out of my comfort zone.

Although I guess I should be a little joyous and exhilarated considering that Fang wanted me in that way. He found me desirable. He wanted to kiss me, and possibly wanted to do much, _much _more. And I was happy; overly happy, to tell you the truth. I hadn't had another boy in my life for almost two years. I'd been so sure, back before we came here, that Dylan was it. He was all I needed, and I accepted that fact. But now, after meeting Fang and witnessing his free way of life, I wasn't at all sure.

But there in lies a question. What if Fang wanted me to put out? This is just me, but I didn't like having sex the first couple days after getting together. I didn't mind kissing and maybe some touching, but I wouldn't go all the way unless I was completely sure that I loved him. Call me old fashioned, but that's how I was.

With Fang holding onto my hand super tight, my immediate fear of the snake quickly dwindled to a small fright, and I could breathe normally. That's what Fang does to me. He could send my heart racing like I was going into cardiac arrest, or he could calm its mad beating by simply holding my hand. Dylan had never been able to do that, no matter how hard he'd tried. And I liked that it was Fang and not Dylan.

By the time I was finished planning my small speech out in my head, Fang and I had already arrived where the others were all gathering around their vehicles, all the city folk practically on top of the hoods. I had to admit, it was pretty hilarious watching Holden freak out over a snake when I was being calmed down by Fang and the small circles he was drawing on my palm.

"What's up?" Fang asked everyone, removing his hand from grip before anyone – especially Dylan – saw.

Ratchet, who was lounging on the bank with his bare feet dipped in the water (Hello? Freaking snake!) answered Fang casually. "Sarah Jane saw a snake and flipped." Ratchet's dark hair was glistening, just like Fang's, although it wasn't as shiny or silky looking.

Nudge and Kate, ever the damsel in distress, were perched on top of a truck's roof, hollering in fright and madly gesturing for everyone to get out of the water. If Fang hadn't calmed me down (thank you, Fang!) I'd probably be up there with those two retards, screaming my head off and embarrassing myself even more in front of these people. But, since I wasn't, I found the whole thing slightly entertaining, and I started to chuckle, trying to hide my humor from Nudge and Kate because I knew they'd be offended and I didn't feel like dealing with them right now.

"Oh," Fang said, nodding his head once to show that he understood what Ratchet had just announced. He stepped away from where I was standing off to the left, excluded from everyone around me. I wondered if they could see the blush that was clouding my features, accenting my cheeks with a red tint. I wondered if they could tell, just by looking at me and using common sense, what Fang and I had just been doing. Or attempting to do, I guess.

Fang walked over to Ratchet and started engaging him in a conversation, asking questions like what kind of snake it was and if it'd bit anyone. My old fear came back, but it wasn't as hard to bite down as it was before. Maybe because I knew it was going to be okay, that Fang and Dylan wouldn't let anything happen to me. I didn't even mention that Ari, Iggy, Ratchet, and the Gasman would protect me too.

The wind suddenly picked up, and I remembered that the only thing I had on was a long T-shirt and my sneakers, with my jeans thrown haphazardly over my shoulder. Shivering slightly due to the abrupt chill, I wrapped my arms around my body, partly trying to defend myself from the coolness and partly hiding myself from everyone's wondering eyes.

With my jeans missing and Fang's shirt no where to be seen, it wasn't hard to know that everyone with a brain could tell what Fang and I had been doing down the creek all by ourselves. But they were all wrong, because I'd never do that to Dylan. And sure, we almost kissed, but so what? It would've just been a kiss, even if it was by the most hottest guy I'd ever seen. A kiss is a kiss. Nothing more. I slightly wondered if I was going to eat those words at the end of the night.

Sighing, I looked around, noticing for the first time that Dylan was nowhere to be seen. Again. This was like the tenth time that dumbass has left me (if you didn't notice, I exaggerated a little bit there). Anger rippled through me, boiling my blood and sending it to my brain. What the hell was he doing this time? Running back to the football field because he forgot his wallet? Pssh, that retard.

But right as I turned my head back toward Fang and the others, I saw Dylan running out from behind all the vehicles in the corner of my eye, a panicked expression on his face as if he'd just been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Maya followed right after him, mirroring the same look Dylan was sporting. Hmm... What the hell had just happened between –

Before I could finish my thought, I suddenly felt something slimy and moist land on my neck, scaring me almost half to death. The object, sticky and scaly, slithered around my neck, digging under the shirt to move down my back. Shivers slid down my spine and my breathing hitched painfully in my throat, causing me to start coughing up a storm.

And that's when I figured out that it was the snake. The damn snake had been thrown on me by someone, whose ass I was going to kick if _the snake _didn't kill me first.

Okay, let's pause for a moment. Have any of you ever had an unknown object flung upon you that almost made you wet yourself? And I mean anything, like a pencil or a stick. But before you realize what it is you freak the hell out. I'm right, aren't I? When it's something you don't expect, like a frog or a _snake, _then you tend to panic until the thing is off. Which is exactly what I did.

I screamed. I couldn't help it; it just came out. I screamed on all frequencies, at the top of my lungs, so loud and hard that my throat started to hurt beyond belief. Was that overreacting since the only thing wrong with me was that I had a freaking snake wrapping itself around my neck and going down my back? In your opinion, it might be I guess.

But let me tell you something – and I'm talking to all those people who think that a snake being thrown on you wasn't a big deal at all – it wasn't. Not by a long shot. Because, like I said, I was deathly terrified of snakes. Why? When I was five, I was bit by a copperhead and had to be rushed to the E.R. so they could suck the poison out before it reached my heart. Yeah, not a walk in the damn park.

So, as you can tell, I was having a panic attack. My heart was thundering in my chest, and I could hear it clear up to my ears. My throat felt like it was expanding, which gave the snake more room to maneuver and squeeze harder. My body was shaking violently, my breaths coming in sharp pants and gasps, and I was still screaming. But could you blame me? Childhood fears are always the hardest to face, in my opinion.

I reached my hands up, still screaming deafeningly, and started yanking furiously at the snake. It was so wet a grimy that my fingers couldn't get a good grip on it, and when I did and pulled I only succeeded in making it pull tighter.

I felt two double piercings made by razor-sharp teeth in the small of my back, and through a mind clouded with fear and terror I realized that the snake had bitten me. _The freaking snake had just bit me! _But it didn't hurt, not like it did when I was younger. Of course, there was a chance that this snake wasn't poisonous, and that could be the undisputed reason that it wasn't exactly causing me unbelievable pain.

Switching from panic mode to shock mode, I started clawing savagely at the snake, feeling bits off scale digging sharply underneath my nails and making me wince from the sudden revelation of pain. But none of that compared to the fear racing through my body at break-neck speed, making my heart rate jump higher than ever before.

I felt my eyes close, and right at that instant someone unhinged the snake from around my neck, their hands gentle but firmly determined in their task of removing the snake, and I opened my eyes just in time to see Fang throw the snake back in the water, landing on the head of whoever threw it at me.

I looked up at my rescuer, Fang, who I was really beginning to see wasn't this dumb hillbilly stereotype I'd pictured him as. "Thank you," I spit out shakily, my voice husky and scratchy from all the screaming.

Fang looked down at me, his eyes wide with horror and worry, which was a new look on him. One that I was positive I _didn't _like. "You okay?" he asked hastily, cupping my face in his hands and pulling me closer, studying my expression intently unless I belied something. Dylan should be the one relentless on taking care of me, not Fang. But I'd rather have Fang do it, I realized with a start.

It was then that I realized Fang was scared – for me. Scared that I'd been bitten, that it was a poisonous snake. I didn't want him to be scared or worried, even if I'd been bitten. I was just fine, because I couldn't feel the sting that followed from poison being injected in my blood stream.

I nodded, not trusting my voice since I feel the hot tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. I _wouldn't_ cry, not here at least. Not where everyone could see me and make fun of me. My pride wouldn't allow me to break down just yet.

"Just peachy," I whispered, trying my best to attempt a soft, reassuring smile, like the one he'd given me. It probably turned out looking like a grimace with my luck. "I was bit, but it doesn't hurt." Which wasn't a lie; the only pain I felt was a distant sting around the entrance the teeth had created. In fact, my back was starting to itch because two small streams of blood begin cascading down my back.

Fang's face, after hearing my words, turned to scared, then worried, then angry, and back to scared, then confusion, shock, and finally anger again. All that happened in about five seconds, which was some funny crap. And when he'd finally settled on an emotion, he turned back to the water, his eyes, which were wide with frustration, landing on a dude lounging in a huge tire tube, feigning nonchalance.

"You dumb son of a bitch, Ryder!" Fang screamed at him, his voice deep, dark, and menacing, like he was just about ready to tear off Ryder's head. I didn't understand that one bit. Everyone, who'd been discussing what had just happened and my little freak out episode, quietened down and stared at Fang, some amused and some even scared. "That snake bit her."

Fang's arm had curved itself around my waist, pulling me against his side as if he could protect me. There was no doubt in my mind that he could. I had a sudden flash of mortification since I was practically in an embrace with Fang, but then that shame immediately faded away when I noticed that no one cared. I saw Dylan approaching me from the right, a worried and sorry look on his cute face. One look from Fang and he stopped dead.

Sighing in content, I leaned my head against Fang's shirtless shoulder, the hard and rigid muscles providing a very uncomfortable pillow for my cheek. But it felt good, leaning against something tougher than me. Dylan was pretty muscular himself, but not as much as Fang. Nowhere near as much. My body was still shaking uncontrollably, causing me to jerk constantly, but wrapped in Fang's arms I felt like nothing could touch me or harm me.

Hell, it didn't even bother me that Fang was standing up for me. That he was the one demanding the answers, scaring people to where they were shaking in their boots. It should've been me, or in the very least Dylan. Not Fang, because he didn't even know me. So why was I okay with it?

Ryder, gulping down the sip of beer he'd taken a drink from, looked scared to death, like he'd just seen his life flash before his eyes. "Sorry, Fang, man. I didn't know she'd freak out like that. It was just a joke," he said in his alibi, and it was a shitty one in my opinion.

Fang exploded. "You didn't know she'd panic?" Fang asked, although it was more like a statement. His southern accent rumbled deep in his chest, and I mentally did a happy dance in my head because I was in the arms of this amazing man. My snake bite was completely forgotten at the moment. "The damn thing bit her!"

In response, Ryder shrugged. What's wrong, Ryder? Snake got your tongue? I hope that thing takes a good chunk out of your side, asshole.

"Was the thing poisonous?" Fang asked, his voice cracking from anger and worry. To calm him, I placed my arm around his waist and squeezed his side softly, letting him know that I was okay. Pissed off beyond comprehension, but okay nonetheless. In response, Fang looked down at me and smiled faintly. I matched it with a toothy grin.

Fang didn't give Ryder time to answer, though he did shake his head in denial, because he immediately went on, this time addressing everyone. "I'm takin' Max to my place to make sure she'd okay. Do whatever the hell you want. Go cow tippin' on Old Man Reed's place, for all I care. He's prob'ly passed smooth out."

Everyone stared at Fang and me, their eyes hungrily drinking us in; me wrapped in Fang's arms like a child and him spittin' mad, like a predator protecting its mate. Sexist pig. Some people were looking at us questioningly, as they didn't really comprehend what Fang had just said. But others, the smarter of the bunch, nodded in understanding and went back to what they were previously doing.

"I'll go with you, Fang," Dylan announced, finally saying something as he approached us hesitantly. I couldn't tell if he was scared or worried or ashamed, but I knew that he was guilty. But I didn't know the reason. Guess I'd find out later.

"No you won't," Fang said, pointing a finger at Dylan as he spun me around to where I was facing Dylan, who was taken aback. "You didn't even have the balls to protect your girlfriend. I had to, 'cause you were off hidin' again. You ain't goin' with us. Stay here and make sure nobody does anything stupid, okay?"

So Fang had saw Dylan too, huh? Which meant he saw Maya. I wasn't pointing any fingers or jumping to any unsupported conclusions, but I didn't think that Dylan would do something like that. Cheat on me with a skank as big as Texas. Wait, was that a fat joke? Hell, I had no dang clue, but it was true.

Dylan, unsurprisingly, gave up without a fight and simply nodded, his ashamed face walking away from my vision as he ambled away toward his Silverado. So much for fighting for the girl you love, Dylan. Guess Fang just proved that you were a coward. Too scared to stand up to your own flesh and blood. Wimp.

Fang pulled me impossibly closer, and it was then that I realized I was shaking again. My jeans were laying on the ground somewhere, but I didn't feel like bending down to pick them up. Call me lazy, but I'd just been bitten by a snake. You wouldn't want to do anything, either. Besides, Fang's shirt was long enough to cover anything that might accidentally show.

Without word, Fang led me back to his black Silverado, parked by a large water oak that towered above all the tiny trees surrounding it. Fang opened the driver side door, and I understood that I was to get in on his side, so I jumped up and slid into the passenger seat on the other side. Fang hopped in with ease, shutting the door and starting the engine.

I'd figured that I was in shock from being bit. Maybe that's why I didn't panic when Fang finally got the thing off. But it didn't exactly hurt when it bit me; it was like its teeth didn't go in as far as it should've. But I wasn't complaining, and I was especially happy that it wasn't poisonous.

Fang jerked the truck into Reverse and backed up, sending gravel flying out from underneath the tires. He switched it to Drive and started up the narrow dirt road that led to the highway, dodging deep potholes and flicking his lights on bright since it was pitch black out.

He looked over at me just as he stopped to turn onto the highway, reaching for my hand and grasping it, pulling me willingly into the middle. I scooted as close as possible and laid my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes and relaxing, raising my back slightly off the seat behind me.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, his hot breath fanning my damp hair and sending it flying across my face. "I can take you to a hospital, if you'd like, Max." He was genuinely worried about me, but he shouldn't be.

I smiled faintly up at him, my eyes half closed from fear and fright, not the severity of the bite. "Just drive," I said in answer, and he did as I ordered, punching the gas and speeding out onto the road.

But, even as he exceeded the speed limit and passed several vehicles, the only thing I was aware of was his hand, resting halfway up my leg, right where the T-shirt ended, palm lounging on the inside of my thigh. And, get this crap, I didn't immediately recoil and freak out.

**PAGE BREAK BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL LIKE PUTTING ONE IN!**

The drive to Fang's house didn't take as long as expected because he lived about ten miles from the creek. But it went by in a blur filled with twinkling lights and dark images, because Fang still had his hand laying on my leg. But he'd started to massage the muscle after a while, which felt as good as I imagined. I wasn't positive, but I believed that I moaned.

We pulled up into the drive, his headlights illuminating the house at the end of the dirt road. On either side, there were still numerous cars and trucks parked, cluttering the road but leaving enough room for a vehicle to drive down. At the end was the dream house I'd been so impressed with. Every light in the house was on, and I heard faint music filtering in through the open windows. It sounded like Brantley Gilbert's song, _Kick It In The Sticks. _

I was still very much aware of Fang's hand resting on my inner thigh, but it didn't feel perverted or sexual or even intimate. It just felt like it was there for comfort. His roughly calloused yet somehow soft hand was creating the warmest of sensations where it was placed, and the tingles were sent generously throughout my body, making sure I felt it everywhere.

Fang stopped the truck right next to the porch, and this is what my thought process was when he turned off the engine. _What the hell, Fang? Are you trying to drive this truck inside? Back the F up a little! Dang. _Did I word any of it? No, because I really didn't feel like having a debate about if he was or if he wasn't. Not right now, anyway.

After a moment of pure ecstasy when Fang moved his hand up a little, he seemed to reluctantly pull away and sling the door open, hopping out and holding his hand up to assist me. The same hand that had just been laying on my thigh, making my breath hitch and my heart beat. But not from fear; from wanting, need.

Smiling faintly down at him, I placed my hand in his and allowed him to pull me down to the ground. Sadly, he couldn't accomplish that gentle gesture, though, because my shoelace got caught on the gas pedal and I fell into his arms. Which would've been romantic any other time, but not this time since my face came in contact with his chin. It hurt like a bitch.

Fang's head was sent backward, and my face was lain gently against his chest, his hand coming up and tucking my head beneath his chin. When I'd landed, my arms had flown around Fang's waist in an effort to slow my momentum, but now, as I squeezed impossibly hard and pressed my body against his, I did it out of attraction. The badass chemistry between us _was _unmistakeable.

"You good?" he whispered, his voice gruff from my impact to his chin, and I wondered if he was okay. In response, I nodded my head against his chest and planted my feet more firmly on the ground, resisting the urge to wrap my legs around his waist and attack him with my lips. I'd done that one time with Dylan, but he was caught off guard and dropped me... I had to go to the hospital because my head started to bleed. I don't care to repeat the incident.

Fang sighed, wrapping his arms around my arms and pulling me closer still, to where the tips of my toes were just barely grazing the ground. For an unbelievable moment, we just stood together wrapped in a tight, sweet embrace. We didn't want each other; we needed each other. No lust, never lust. It wouldn't fit right between us. We only needed each other.

And then Fang stepped out of my arms, though he kept his arm wrapped tightly around my waist and reached over to shut the door. We started up the steps, the overhead porch light leading our way and saving me from tripping over the stairs. Through the screen door, I could see several people, older than Fang and me by about ten years, standing around and reminiscing, Busch Light's in their hands.

It was then that I remembered that the only thing I had on was Fang's long T-shirt, which covered everything because it reached right above my knees, but I knew what it'd look like to everyone inside. Like Fang and I'd just been getting a little freaky somewhere, and decided to go to his place for a more comfortable area to finish. Wow, that was way the hell off.

Fang pulled open the screen, and we were immediately blasted with music, and I was certain it was Brantley Gilbert. Wanna know a secret? I was actually starting to like this song, though I had no idea why. Maybe the beat, maybe the sound, maybe the message. But it suited this night; after all, I was 'kickin' it in the sticks.' I chuckled at that thought.

We stepped inside, the smell of barbeque and beans assaulting my senses and making my stomach growl loudly. Fang must've heard, because he looked down at me questioningly and gave me an unsure smile. I gave him a crooked grin in return.

The amazing-ass house was full of people, all a good amount of years older than Fang and me. The stereo was blasting deafeningly, and it surprised me that people could even hear their own thoughts. They needed to turn that crap down.

When we reached the stairs, Fang pulled me up and away from all the wondering, perverted eyes that were looking at me a little too closely. His arm around my waist was removed, which sorta ticked me off, but then he replaced it on my shoulders, pulling me against him like he'd done so many times earlier. And it still had the same affect on me.

"So, where to?" I asked, attempting conversation, which was a terrible way to start. It was like saying it was a nice night out. I'm such a dumbass.

Fang didn't look at me to answer, but I saw the smirk he had on his full lips out of the corner of my eye. "We gotta get the bite cleaned, and make sure you're gonna be all right," he responded quietly, though his deep southern accent was carried strongly throughout the quiet stairs. I shivered and pressed closer, Dylan at the back of my mind.

"To the bathroom then?" I guessed, though it was more of a question. I felt just fine; the bite didn't hurt any, but I could feel the blisters already starting to form on the backs and sides of my feet. Stupid sneakers.

He looked down at me then, just as we took the left that led us down the hallway. "Yeah," he whispered, his deep voice husky and scratchy, like this was the first time he'd talked in a few days. But that was a lie, because he's spent most of the night talking to me.

I nodded, and that was the end of that conversation. Although I really wasn't complaining, I guess. It wasn't that it was awkward talking to Fang – it wasn't – it was jus that we could communicate without talking, it seemed. Dylan and I had never been like that. Sure, we could finish each other's sentences sometimes, but I was always a puzzle Dylan just couldn't figure out. But Fang seemed to understand me without having to talk. Which was freaking great.

We reached the bathroom in no time, my soggy sneakers making squishy sounds on the plush carpet. He opened the door, pushing me inside with his hand on the small of my back. Behind him, Fang shut the door and locked it, for privacy I presumed. Either that or he was getting ready to try something with me that wouldn't happen. Which I highly doubted, because that seemed underneath Fang somehow.

"Stand right there," he ordered me, motioning for me to move over to the side so he could have better access to the cabinets above the sink and counter. In the mirror, I could just barely glimpse at the rebel flag shower curtain, pushed up to the right so it was out of the way. I smirked at that curtain, 'cause it was just so damn awesome.

It took several minutes – and a few curse words from Fang – but he finally had some alcohol, peroxide, cotton balls, and band-aids in his arms. He dumped them in the sink, not even caring if anything would happen to pop open and empty out. Then he motioned for me to come to stand in front of the mirror again.

"Take the shirt off," he said from over my shoulder, pulling the hem up from behind my back. Suddenly very aware of our predicament, I hesitantly did as he said, pulling the shirt over my head and depositing it on the floor, forming a bundle of white at my feet. "I'll get you some more clothes 'fore we leave."

I nodded, wrapping my arms around my chest in some feeble attempt to cover myself.

Fang suddenly reached passed me and grabbed a pair of gray sweats which were laying on the counter and handed them to me. I had no idea there was even a pair of pants there. I was already insane; was I going freaking _blind_ now? I took them and stepped away from Fang, to the side a little, so I could yank them on. They were a couple sizes too big, but it felt good to have at least something on.

The mirror was pretty big – in fact, the damn thing was huge – but it came down far enough to just barely graze the top of my bellybutton, which really infuriated me since I was completely bare from the waist up (except for my bra, thank God) for Fang to see everything. And I mean _everything. _

Fang reached passed me again and grabbed some alcohol and cotton balls. He then backed up a few steps, bending down to where he could see the bite better. I heard more than saw him unscrew the lid to the alcohol and dab a little of it on a cotton ball. Then he rubbed it gently – oh so gently – across the bite. I sucked in a breath at the immediate sting, although it felt fairly good.

"That hurt?" he asked absentmindedly, momentarily looking in the mirror and meeting my eyes. He gave me a weakly sweet grin, filled with worry and anger and need, and I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

"No, it felt wonderful," I said, living up to my title as Sarcasm Queen, and doing a dang good job, I think. Fang laughed lightly, rubbing the cotton ball more firmly and faster across the bite. After that, he trailed it down my back a ways, probably cleaning up the blood that had ran.

What I said next couldn't be helped; it was like that stupid statement you make in front of your crush and you embarrass yourself horribly and all but erase any chance you have with him. The question was jerky and quick, so it surprised me that he even understood. But it flat out shocked me when he didn't take the question offensively. "How do you have all this?"

In the mirror, Fang shrugged, his hat bobbing up and down. "There's a buncha us. Me, Iggy, Gazzy, Ratchet, Angel, Star, Maya, and my folks. That's more than enough people to work a seven-hundred acre farm. And we cut wood and hay and sale it to anybody who needs it. Plus we have part time jobs for some spendin' money," he answered as if he'd been asked that question all his life. "But that ain't the real reason. You ever saw that show _Duke's of Hazzard_? Well, my family's like theirs."

I didn't understand his statement, and, looking back at him with a questioning look in my eyes, I asked, "What do you mean, Fang?" Yeah, I was confused; I wasn't freaking Einstein. But I was fairly sure I was kin to him... Maybe a distant cousin or whatever.

Fang laughed slightly, as if I hadn't gotten his inside joke. "Max, we run moonshine," he answered, reaching beyond me and digging around till he found the peroxide and band-aids. "We got our own still hidden in the barn. They call me Hell on Wheels, because when I drive I scare the hell outta people."

I was shocked, to say in the least. He ran freaking moonshine? Wasn't that, like, illegal? Had he ever gotten caught? How do you even make moonshine? Was it good? And who would buy it?

"That's... cool," I choked out, pretending like it was nothing and hunching my back so he could have better access to the bite. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, taking in with disapproval my stringy hair, large eyes, and pale skin. I looked awful. Don't even get me started on my clothing.

Fang looked up and his dark eyes met mine. They seemed to soften when he gazed at me, as if he could see past my barriers and into my soul. They say the eyes are the gateway to the souls. You know, maybe that was true.

Never leaving my eyes, he unwrapped a band-aid and stuck it on my bite, pressing carefully yet firmly as to not hurt me. My eyes never left his either, and I barely felt the sharp stab of pain erupt in my back. Unsurprisingly, it was drowned out by the pleasure and delight that came from staring into Fang's eyes.

For several drawn out moments, Fang and I stared longingly into each other's eyes, light meeting dark. I felt this stirring deep down in my stomach, twisting into a pleasure-pain sensation that grew rapidly till it erupted and sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through my entire body. I shivered slightly, the joyous feeling catching me completely off guard.

Abruptly, Fang grabbed me around the waist and spun me around, picking me up and setting me on the counter gently to where I was facing him and he could look at me freely. I gasped loudly, wrapping my arms around his neck to steady myself so I wouldn't fall. When he set me down, I laid my head against his shoulder without thinking, my heart pounding. He'd scared the hell out of me.

Fang pushed away from me slightly, making me have to pull away and sit straight up. He was a few feet in front of me, standing with his hands on my knees as if to part them and step into the cradle with my thighs. Questioningly, with a faint blush climbing up my cheeks, I looked up at him, expecting him to explain his sudden, rash action.

"Sorry," he muttered, gazing at me with such intensity that I had to close my eyes tightly, not wanting him to see the emotions my eyes belied.. But, sadly, that was a freaking mistake. While my eyes were closed, Fang parted my legs carefully, testing the boundaries, and stepped in between my thighs. My eyes flew open, staring into his slightly amused and hazy dark chocolatey orbs.

I was utterly shocked. No, wait, _shocked _wasn't an accurate enough word to describe how I felt at that very instant. Sure, Dylan had done the exact same thing a few times, and even went as far as taking my shirt off. But that was it. I'd never allowed him to go any further, because I wasn't like that. Also, his little sister walked in on us one time. Let's just say that I was banned from his house after that.

But I'd never felt this scared or surprised – or, hell, _needy –_ with Dylan before. I'd never needed to. I was always the one to initiate the kisses or touches; never Dylan. Maybe it was because he was shy, or unconscious, or afraid I'd see how much he wanted me. But with Fang, it was like I needed more physically. Which didn't make any sense at all.

"It's okay," I found myself saying lightly, my body swaying toward him. I knew this was wrong; nothing about my relationship with this hillbilly was right. But it felt so good to be doing something I wasn't supposed to. Like stepping on the grass at an important building when you weren't supposed. Like OU's campus, when I visited back in the spring. Unlike at Dylan's house, I didn't get caught, but my teacher did give me detention for a week. Bending the rules and breaking the law.

Fang was leaning closer too, his hands, which had been resting softly on my knees, beginning to run up my thighs slowly, leaving a trail of fiery passion in their wake. "Thought it was," he said, his eyes fluttering close as he tilted his head sideways for better access.

And that's when I remembered I had a boyfriend. That I was here with Dylan, who was Fang's cousin, his friend. I'm not a slut, so don't ever call me one. I understand that this kind of thing might not be underneath Kate, but it was too much for me. I couldn't do it. And I told Fang that, right after I pushed him away. For, like, the eighth time tonight.

Groaning, I said, "No, Fang. We can't." My hands were resting firmly on his shoulders, squeezing so he knew that I meant what I was saying even if my body hadn't comprehended my words and was swaying toward his. "I'm still with Dylan, and it's not right to do this to him. I won't till we're through."

Fang's eyes were glazed over with passion, wanting, and need, and they shone from the overhead light. I could see the reluctance in his eyes, which was mirroring my own. But he needed to understand that I couldn't do it; not yet.

But in an instant his desires for me vanished, and he plastered an arrogant smirk on his lips. "Sure, Max. Whatever you say," he said, helping me jump off the counter and land on my feet. I captured the undercurrent to his words, which meant that he'd have me by the end of the night even if it meant kicking Dylan's ass. "I'll get you some clothes and shoes, so stay here and don't leave."

I nodded, my heart and breath still entirely irregular, and watched as he walked toward the door, slinging it open. He really did have a nice butt, and it looked even better in those tight Wranglers he had on. Luscious, soft-looking, probably firm and yet completely smooth at the same time. Perfect.

"Oh, and Max?" Fang called to me over his shoulder, just as he was about to exit the sultry bathroom. "Quit starin' at my butt." And then the jackass was gone, leaving me to silently freak out and fume all alone.

**I didn't think it was terrible, you might have though. It was pretty darn long; 7424 words! My longest thing ever! But I promised a long, filling chapter right? Just don't get mad! **

**I got a new song, Keep On by Eric Church. It's pretty freaking awesome; well, I like it, but everyone tells me I have terrible taste in music. I don't, it's just that I like country. Also, I put the title of a Brantley Gilbert song in there, Hell on Wheels. Pretty beast song. He wrote it for his grandma, because she used to run shine. **

**Anyway, R&R people! C'mon gimme a reason to write! Lots of love...**

**~ SoonerMagic **


	11. Chapter 11

**READ: First, I need to apologize for my terrible updating. The thing is, and this is true, I'm so freaking busy all the time that I usually don't have enough time to write. I have Algebra 1 homework everyday, I have several assignments due this week, I gotta write a kids book (which won't be that big a deal, but still) I'm going to the fair (gotta love ag) basketball practice just started, and I have school pictures on Friday. That's just school, my readers. Don't even get me started on my personal life. And I'm sorry to bore you with my problems, but I just wanted you to know that I wasn't just being lazy. ^_^**

**Okay, I've gotta shout out to my friend/cousin Christopher (You know who you are, and the reason you're getting a mention is because you're NOT reading this! I am so good!) who goes by 192 I think. I have no idea, but it's something like that! ;)**

**Also, before I start, can I say how hot the guy who's playing Gale Hawthorne in the movie is? Liam Hemsworth? Oh sexy god! I'm sorry for all of you who are ticked off that he's playing Gale, but be glad we got someone relatively good looking, ok? And Peeta... go screw yourself while eating some freaking bread. I hate you. But you're not bad lookin...**

**P.S. I think you guys'll really like this chapter...**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC, THE ANGRY/HAPPY GIRL**

After Fang had gotten me some clothes – a light blue Hanes T-shirt, some long Levi jeans, and some boots he'd said belonged to his mom – we were off and on our way to Old Man Reed's house where the rest of the gang were cow tipping (whatever in the hell _that _was) with me sitting on the passenger's side this time. The attraction between Fang and me was just too dangerous and inviting; I knew if I didn't keep my distance that I'd fall at his feet.

Fang didn't seem to even feel like talking, and so he cranked the radio up as loud as it would go. Even with the windows down, I could still hear the radio clearly as it blasted Eric Church's new song _Keep On. _It was about this guy who kept getting looks from this girl, and I angrily realized that that's what I was doing to Fang. Shit, I need to stop that.

My face was still flaming and my blood still boiling from being caught staring at Fang's ass. It wasn't my fault he had such a nice, perfect butt. I blame it on his genetics. But I really wouldn't mind seeing if it would fit perfectly in my hands like I thought it would. I hope so. Not that I intended on finding out...

The drive to Old Man Reed's place flew by, which was a miracle considering all the tension floating around in the cab of the pickup truck. I mean, I knew Fang and I wanted each other, but we couldn't have each other because I was still dating his cousin – which I had to remind myself about every five seconds. But would it really work out between us two, a tomboy city-slicker and a rebel country boy?

Oh, and don't think I wasn't aware of what Dylan and Maya had been doing behind the vehicles. But, after silently fuming while Fang had been getting me a change of clothes, I finally rationalized that Dylan wouldn't do nothing like that to me. Maya, I had no doubt in my mind that that slut would try to seduce my boyfriend. But I also knew that Dylan was too smart to fall for her easiness. He was, wasn't he?

Ugh, I felt like screaming! The silence in the cab was so freaking deafening that my head was starting to hurt, pounding so hard and tenacious, to the point where I thought I was beginning to get one of those hated migraines. And you're probably asking yourself right at this moment how silence can be so deafening. Well, when you don't talk, a lot of things go unsaid. And there was a lot of things going unsaid between us two.

"Okay, here's the deal," Fang announced abruptly, his deep southern drawl sounding entirely too loud in the cab of the pickup. My gaze swung over to him, and I saw that he was clenching the steering wheel with a deathly grip thought he had a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. "How 'bout I take you and Dylan snipe huntin'?"

Wait, what? What the crap's _snipe hunting_? Ari was an avid hunter back in Tulsa, going with our grandpa, and I'd never once heard of him going snipe hunting. Although I'd heard him mentioning that he was about ready to take a few people snipe hunting. But I still had no damn idea what it was. Was that, like, a new, cross-bred bird or something?

Thinking that it wouldn't hurt, I shrugged and said, "Sure, I guess." At my approval, Fang's small smirk turned into a full-fledged grin, and I was left wondering what I'd just gotten myself into as we drove to Old Man Reed's place.

**LIKE TOTALLY AWESOME, TUBULAR, KICKASS, RED WHITE & BLUE PAGE BREAK! OH, WITH GREEN AND PINK STRIPES. **

We'd arrived at the farm about ten minutes later, me scooted as far against the door as possible to resist the urge to fling myself at him with the intent on punching his beautiful face. You see, after I'd agreed to go snipe hunting, Fang must've decided to show off and had revved up the engine, sending us flying down the road at speeds that shouldn't even be known to man. Fang had explained to me that he'd put a chip in the truck, which gave it more speed, power, and fuel efficiency.

Yeah, like _that _was a Grade A excuse.

So, when he'd finally stopped the truck – parking behind Ratchet's truck, the Challenger, and Dylan's Silverado – I all but fell out of the cab and landed on my knees, thanking the Good Lord in heaven for having pity on me and not letting me die. I really needed to get my bootie in church if I wanted to survive Fang and his wild antics.

After straightening to my full height and swiping a loose lock of hair from my cheek, I forced my eyes to hastily adjust to the fathomless darkness and looked ahead, noticing that Fang had already started for the others, leaving me behind. You'd think he'd have enough courtesy to actually wait on me. I still had time to decline going hunting with him, though I highly doubted I will.

Sighing exasperatedly, I slammed the door shut – receiving a piercing glare from Fang, though I was half blind – and stomped off after him. The boots I was currently wearing were a size to small, and my feet were starting to mildly cramp. I wasn't too happy that I was going to have to deal with these painful-ass shoes all night since Fang had thrown my sneakers in the bathroom floor back at his place. Oh well, it was too far of a walk in these boots.

I adopted a limp in my step as I approached the others, who were all gathered around in a loose circle – more like an oval – in the front of the Challenger. The headlights were shining brightly, so everyone could see, and as soon as Dylan saw me hobbling up he ran at me with what looked like relief, worry, and guilt dancing across his features. Hmm, wonder what's up with the guilt?

Dylan swooped me up in his arms, too cheesy to spin me around like you see in all those romantic movies, and simply gave me a slobbery kiss on the lips. I fought my hardest to not bring my hands up and push him away agitatedly, and allowed him to kiss me all over before releasing me to stand on my own. And get this crap: I didn't feel anything when he kissed me. But now, when Fang and I had been leaning toward each other...

"I'm fine, Dylan," I said saucily, shaking my head to clear my mind of those thoughts. "Nice to know you're worried about your _girlfriend_." From in front of us somewhere, I heard Maya chuckle deeply, and I restrained myself from asking her, _What the hell are you laughing about, you low-down whore?_ Something told me that that wouldn't go over well with Maya, and I really didn't feel like embarrassing her by kicking her butt.

Dylan, the Don Juan of stupidity, finally got what I was hinting at, and immediately spun me around and yanked up my shirt – technically Fang's, again; man, he owned a lot of Hanes shirts – and went to looking for the bite. Fang had, thankfully, covered it up with a Band-Aid, and you couldn't see it even if the Challenger's lights were blazing. So what the hell was he feeling around for? My boobs were on the other side; not that I'd let him ever feel me up. And you'd better believe that.

All of that happened in about three seconds, and I was caught completely off-guard, so it wasn't like I could jerk free of his grasp. Well, until I finally regained my bearings, that is.

Appalled beyond explanation, I wrenched from his grasp and spun back around, my flying hand coming in contact with his cheek, not really realizing what I was doing. "What the hell do you think you're doing, sexist pig?" I screamed at him, my voice loud and shrill in the quiet pasture.

Dylan was just staring at me, his left hand pressed against his cheek, looking at me with a shocked and hurt expression, like I'd just betrayed him or something. And that's when my action had fully registered in my foggy mind. I'd never, ever hit Dylan before in all the time that I'd known him. So it was easy to see why he looked like I'd just dropped a bombshell on him.

The only reply I received was a _moo _from a nearby cow, and – I'm sure she thought she was helping me out – but I didn't acquire any assistance in her throaty holler.

"Max," he whispered, his voice sounding slightly slurred, as if he'd been drinking. Which was terrible, because I'd seen him drunk, and it wasn't a pretty sight. He became all obnoxious and loud and overbearing, acting like he owned everything and the world owed him for breathing its oxygen. I hated it when he was drunk.

My face fell at his expression, silently accusing me that I'd just crossed the line by slapping him. But it wasn't entirely my fault; he was the one that yanked my shirt up, and the only thing I had on underneath it was my light blue and hot pink bra. Which was currently still soaked. Thank you, Fang.

Luckily, I didn't have to say anything to Dylan's crestfallen face, because Fang saved me, and I was just about ready to jump in his arms and kiss him silly. Which, I believed, would've been more to my amusement than his. Maybe.

"Dylan, she was just bit and you've been drinkin'," Fang said, stepping in between us and pushing me back slightly. "Me, you, and Max are goin' snipe huntin', okay? Maybe that'll help you take your mind off things."

The whole time Fang was speaking, he'd been groping around behind him for my hand, and I slipped my clammy palm into his inferno. I shivered slightly, my heart racing at his simple touch, and he squeezed my hand reassuringly before letting go and wrapping his arm around Dylan's shoulders, leading him toward Fang's truck.

I watched the two cousins walk away for a moment, and then turned back around to face the others, and was instantly bombarded by questions, words, and exclamations. So many I thought my head would explode.

"Wow, girl! You showed him not to mess with you!"

"Max, can you, like, _teach _me that move?"

"Damn, gal, you got some skill!"

"OMGP, that was totally amazing!"

"I can't believe you did that!"

"Remind me to never get you pissed!"

"That was messed up!"

"I'm impressed."

"That was seriously cool!"

They all spoke at the same time, and, of course, all their words jumbled together so I couldn't exactly understand what everyone had said. But I'm fairly sure that'd been what they'd all said. Looking back, I can't exactly be sure of it, but I remembered Maya's. I didn't think I'd ever forget Maya's statement. Wanna know what it was? Well, here's what the bitch said:

"You know, Max, he didn't deserve that. You were just bein' a shitty girlfriend. He was worried about you; be glad you have someone like him."

Okay, have you ever been told by someone that you were being ungrateful and needed to change your attitude? Well, if you have, you know that immediate anger that follows, and all you really want to do is punch the person who said it in the face. Well, that's what I wanted to do, at least. But I _didn't, _so be happy!

But I'm not going to just let some whore run me over like that because I slapped my boyfriend for yanking up my shirt in front of several people. No, I wasn't like that. I don't take shit from anyone, and the fact that she'd called me a shitty girlfriend didn't make my mood any better either. I tried to hold my anger in check, I really, truly, honestly did. But, as you'll find out, it didn't freaking work.

"Umm, excuse, slut? I don't recall asking for your opinion," I retorted, placing my hands on my hips. I had that tone about me, the one that announced that she didn't dare try to contradict me using words. I was a freaking _word queen. _"So why the hell did you give it?"

Everyone grew quiet right as I started to speak, and they were all staring at Maya and me, their eyes close to bugging out of their heads. Maya only laughed, as if she was impressed that I could even form a coherent sentence. That bitch.

"Come off it, Max. You're just mad that Fang and I are together when you want him," she retorted, flinging her wrist, and there are no words to describe how pissed off I was at her. She simply gave me a knowing smirk that sent my blood boiling.

I wouldn't take this crap from someone like her, not from someone who liked to use people to get back at other people. Because that's just what she was doing. Trying to get at me by using my attraction to Fang against me and admit that I shouldn't have slapped Dylan. No way was that going to happen, not tonight or ever.

"Let me tell you something, girl," I said, my voice sounding cold and fueled by my anger. I felt my eyes start burning from frustration, and I resisted the urge to swipe my hand over my eyes to make sure that I didn't have any sweat rolling in to my eyes. "You and Fang, together? Yeah, that's like saying Tinkerbell's an axe murderer. To point it in a way your bitchy mind will understand, it means not true."

I stopped for dramatic affect, wanting ever word I was saying to seep deep into her brain. "Fang told me about you two. He broke up with you three months ago, and, from what I'd come to understand about you, I don't see why he even got with you in the first place. He bettered himself when he dumped you. He deserves so much more than you. So don't you dare go around saying I'm acting like a shitty girlfriend because I don't have to _pretend _to have a boyfriend."

Before giving her a chance to respond, I spun on the heel of my left boot and started toward Fang's truck, which was was now revving slightly with the lights shining brightly, silhouetting my retreating form for whoever was looking at me from behind. And I couldn't help but think that _everyone _was looking at me, some gawking, some pissed, and some in awe.

Maya had no right to talk to me that way. It was one thing to be caught sneaking off with my boyfriend, but it was another whole damn story that she spoke to me out of term. I didn't care what the freaking U.S. Constitution or Declaration said about freedom of speech; I didn't want to hear any of her speeches ever.

I suddenly felt... lighter. Like I'd just dumped a heavy load off my shoulders onto Maya's. I couldn't explain this abrupt care-free feeling, but I knew one thing, and that was that it felt amazing. Maybe it was because I'd finally been able to release some of my pent-up anger from the last few hours, or even that fact that I'd told Maya off. I wasn't sure, but I knew I didn't want to let this wonderful feeling making me dizzy and lightheaded.

I felt a crooked grin spread across my lips as I came in view of Fang, and flashed him a toothy smile. I'd just told off his ex-girlfriend, which really didn't scare me as much as it would've other girls, and Dylan was drunk. Surely my night couldn't get any worse, right? Or maybe my night could get better... Hmm, we'll just have to see how our hunting trip goes along.

When I'd reached the truck, I went straight to the driver side, still pissed at Dylan for practically undressing me, and waited for him to get out so I could hop in. Once we were both settled in, with Dylan gazing out the window without really seeing anything, Fang tapped me on the shoulder.

"Yeah?" I asked, looking up at him with a faint grin on my lips. Wonder what he'd think when he found out what'd I'd said to Maya.

Fang flashed me a 10,000-watt grin, but then turned it off almost immediately and handed me a Mason Jar filled plumb to the top with this clear liquid. I brought it up to my nose and took a good whiff, which proved to be disastrous since the burning scent almost seared my nose. What _was _this stuff?

"Relax, it's just moonshine," Fang said, putting the truck in gear and backing out. He looked at me, saw that I wasn't making ay attempt to try it, and grasped my free hand gently, pulling it under his leg so Dylan wouldn't see. "Made it myself. Don't worry, it won't kill you. Try it."

And with that push, I brought that Mason Jar up to my lips and gulped a huge mouth full. The smoldering alcoholic beverage grazed my throat as it sunk down, settling in the pit of my stomach and making me feel fuzzy and lightheaded. After the first breathtaking shot was finished spreading throughout my chilled body, it left a fiery thrill in its wake. Hmm, this stuff wasn't so bad.

I brought it back up and took another long, drawn-out drink as Fang headed off Old Man Reed's property.

**PAGE BREAK AGAIN! SORRY FOR THIS CRAP I WRITE, BUT I GOTTA DO IT! HOPE YOU ENJOY!**

The moonshine was three-quarters of the way empty by the time we'd reached the woods surrounding Fang's house, after stopping by his place to grab a frying pan and a large wooden spoon. It seemed a little weird that we were hunting with those objects and not a gun, but my muddled brain was too buzzed to give it any more consideration. Fang's only explanation was that we were supposed to catch the snipes instead of kill them with a gun because they were so small that a bullet would rip them to pieces.

Fang looked at me, slouching in the seat pressed up against him, and he took the jar from me before I could finish off the addicting beverage. Fang took a small sip, his lips opening to allow the liquid to pass into his mouth, and I was in awe at how sexy he could look taking a drink of moonshine.

He'd seen me watching him and handed the jar back to me with a seductive smile on his face. Dylan had already opened the door and was out, walking around the back so he could get the pan and spoon out from the back.

Making sure Dylan wasn't looking, Fang bent down close to my ear and whispered huskily, "Best damn stuff you've ever had, huh?" He seemed overly confident and arrogant, but those two unpleasant attitudes worked perfectly for Fang, and even came off somewhat charming.

I laughed deeply, the sound coming from the back of my throat, and I had a hard time comprehending that that noise had came from me. It was like nothing I'd ever heard before, but I liked that way it sounded. And Fang seemed to have too, because he gave me a sexy as hell grin before exiting the vehicle.

Polishing off the rest of the shine, I downed it and set the empty Mason Jar on the dashboard, steadying it with shaky fingers to make sure it wouldn't fall. When I was content with the way it was sitting, I scooted over to the edge of the seat and hopped out, my boots pounding on the hard ground. I giggled at the sound, still high on the taste on that amazing substance, and rounded the truck to where Fang and Dylan were standing by the tailgate.

Just a little inside information: no, I wasn't drunk. Not technically, at least, because I could still walk in a straight line, think good, talk with proper grammar, and even drive. But I was a little buzzed, considering I'd all but drank a whole jar of moonshine by myself.

When I reached the two, Fang was explaining to Dylan how to lure out a snipe because Dylan apparently had never went snipe hunting before. Neither have I, but I was still eager to learn. Probably because Fang would be my teacher, and I could get away with checking him out even more. Was it just more, or was this shine giving the extra confidence that I needed? Hope so, 'cause it wasn't coming from my astonishing talent to attract hot hillbillies.

"You bang the spoon against the back of the pot to lure 'em out," Fang was saying to Dylan, who was banging against the pot liked his cousin had said. Fang looked slightly irritated, and I laughed softly, running my hand over his back to release some pent-up tension, and he instantly relaxed under my hands.

"Why are we catching them, man?" Dylan asked, looking questioningly at Fang, who was starting to shiver at my touch. And I was thrilled that I had the same affect on him that he had on me. "Why not just shoot their feathery butts?"

I wasn't a bird, though I still dreamt of flying, but I took that offensively, and I swear that, if those itty bitty snipes could understand human talk, they'd be attacking Dylan right now and pecking him in painful places – i.e. his goober. I laughed again at that thought, and I looked up to see Fang smirking wildly.

"Because, dumbass, all the bullets I got would tear the bird to pieces," Fang retorted, reaching around behind me to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer. Of course, it was dark out and the overhead trees were providing a canopy to keep us hidden from the light of the full moon, and Dylan couldn't see the way Fang and I were practically in an embrace, acting as if we were a couple. And, in the back of my mind, and voice asked, _Would it be such a bad thing if he saw you and Fang together? _Uh, yeah? Well, I thought so, at least.

"So you know what to do, right?" Fang asked, being ever cautious about Dylan's safety. Dylan nodded, his eyes slightly dilated. "You're the big man, so me and Max'll follow you."

"Gotcha," Dylan said, nodding for us to follow him as he started off into the woods.

I removed my hand from Fang's back and he took his arm away, but he grasped my hand again in his, pulling it behind us so Dylan wouldn't be able to see if, by some miracle, the moonlight shown in through the canopy. I glanced up at him, and he was close enough to see my smile.

You wanna know a secret? I really liked Fang. I did. Better than Dylan, I realized with a start. Dylan and Fang were just so... different. I mean, you got Dylan the city-slicker and Fang the country boy. You didn't have to be a freaking rocket scientist to realize who had the better-sounding personality.

But then there was another thing. Fang had this country/rebel appeal to his features that made him hotter than hot. Dylan – well, I'd caught him sneakily applying some of his Mom's eyeliner on and a little mascara and in explanation, he'd said that "all the other guys were doing it." He was totally embarrassed, but I just laughed and told him that no one would hear anything from me. I still laughed at that found memory sometimes.

Smiling fondly in memory, I widened my eyes and looked around. There were all kinds of trees surrounding us – spruce, oak, red oak, cedar, pine, maple, whatever – and thousands of little bushels of weeds. There was thorn bushes and briars everywhere, and I saw some poison ivy twisting its way up several trees. I shuddered, being sure to stay away from it because I was extremely allergic.

Dylan beating on the pan jerked me from my reverie, and, with a dreamy smile on my face, searched for snipes. Fang had said they were little birds, so I was looking for something around the size of a newborn bird, maybe. I wasn't sure, but I did know that we were fairly deep in the woods, and I could hear a coyote howling in the distance.

Instinctively I pressed closer to Fang, my head finding his shoulder so lean on. He laughed softly and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, resting his chin on my head as we walked. This behavior wasn't like me at all, considering I was tough as hell and didn't ask for help ever. But I was leaning against Fang because I was _scared_? I couldn't help it, though. This felt... nice. Being wrapped in Fang's arm as we walked through woods freaking filled with all kinds of animals and bugs.

Okay, so it wasn't Cinderella, but it was still romantic. Even with my dumbass boyfriend banging away on a pan and hollering, "C'mere, little snipe-snipe." I know, pathetic huh? I could barely keep from busting a gut at his ridiculous actions, but wrapped in Fang's arms, I could barely think of anything else other than the way his arm sent tingles racing through my body. And then...

And then Fang suddenly yelled, "Look at that nest of snipes, Dylan!" But before I could even see what he was pointing to, he grasped hold of my hand again and spun around, taking off and running through the bushes and trees.

I was caught off guard and started tripping up as he pulled me after him, laughing lightly as he got further and further away from Dylan. Fang's laughs were contagious, and I began laughing too, finally regaining control of my awkward steps and keeping pace with him.

We dodged low-hanging trees and ducked briar bushes. But several twigs twined themselves in my hair and pulled, but I never stopped. My heart was pounding excitedly, but I couldn't stop the negative thoughts that were entering my mind at that very moment. Were we leaving Dylan? What were we doing? Was Dylan racing after us too, or was he still trying to catch some snipes?

And that's when it hit me. Snipes weren't real. Snipe hunting was this joke between countryfolk where they take a newbie into the woods with a pan and stick and leave him to hunt a bird that doesn't even exist. Ari had told me that once, and I couldn't believe I'd forgotten it.

And we were leaving Dylan in the woods, hunting for some bird he'll never find. Okay, it was pretty damn funny, I'll admit it. But it was still mean, and I was about to voice my objections to the still-laughing Fang when we burst through the trees and his truck came in sight.

We slowed our fast-paced running, and it was then that I noticed that I was out of breath. We must've been further in the trees than I'd first realized. But then I remembered Dylan, probably wondering alone in the woods like a lost puppy, and started pummeling Fang none-too-softly in the chest.

After several rounds of my fists in his rock-hard, lean-as-hell chest, he grasped my wrists in a firm grip and stopped me, pulling me closer to where I had to look up at him to see him. And I didn't see anger in his beautifully dark eyes, but humor and amazement, and something else I couldn't place. Lust? Wanting? Whatever it was, it was hard to describe.

"Hey, what was that for?" he asked softly, his breath fanning away some flyaway tresses lounging relentlessly across my forehead. His breath sent shivers down my spine, and I began to tremble till my knees started to buckle and he had to hold me up by my wrists.

I wasn't being overwhelmed by his concerned voice or the firmly gentle grip he had on my wrists. "You know damn well what that's for," he snarled out, trying to be angry at him but it just wouldn't work. It was like Fang repelled any anger I tried to have toward him. "You freaking left Dylan in the woods!"

Fang finally got the gist of what I was saying, and grinned mischievously down at me, his hat shading his face as he tilted his head downward. "Really, Max? You pick now to act like Dylan's girlfriend?" he demanded of me, that annoyingly cute smirk getting the best of me.

I shook my head violently. "No, I've been acting like his girlfriend all night," I countered, looking down like a lying child because I knew that I was lying. And Fang knew too. "We should go back and get –"

My sentence was cut short by Fang's sharp, sudden order. "Shut the hell up, Max," he said, though his voice held no ounce of anger, only lusty wanting and admiration. But it still ticked me off that he'd freaking interrupted me.

"What –" Again, I was cut off by Fang, but this time it wasn't his words. This time it was his full lips slowly descending upon mine, initiating that kiss we'd both been craving for most of the night.

That's right, folks. You read right. _Fang kissed me! _

**Okay, I think that little ending made everyone happy, because it did me! I realized that I'd been keeping Fang and Max away from each other for so long (thanks to an amazing reviewer! ^_^) and the only reason I was doing it is so your excitement would build up and explode when they kissed. I hope I made everyone happy, because I actually like this chapter. One of my favorites! :) And it wasn't as long as the other one, which probably made a ton of people happy!**

**Oh, and I'm thinking about doing a Hunger Games fanfic (after I'm finished with this one, of course) and I want to know what y'all think about that idea. Would you read it? I already got a few chapters done, but I don't think I'll start posting till around Christmas or around there. **

**Anywho, c'mon press that button down there and gimme a review! **


	12. Chapter 12

**As promised, this chapter is dedicated to **Yesmeen **for his/her humorous review. Really, I was grinning like a kid in a candy store. Bad metaphor, huh? Oh, well! Thanks for your review, **Yesmeen, **I totally loved it! :)**

**And guess what, guys! We've hit over 100 reviews! I didn't even know that till early Wednesday morning. I appreciate all y'all have done, and continue to do. Oh, and I AM GOING TO WRITE A SEQUAL. Already got it planned out... As of right now, it's name is _Country Must Be Country Wide. _Another Brantley Gilbert song.:)**

**Anyway, I'm not gonna ramble today because I feel fairly nice but I do want you to review and make me happier. Because I am so freaking tired. I'm gonna do the Disclaimer since I forgot to do it before, Haha. **

**Disclaimer:**** I'm a girl, JP's a guy. It's common sense people! ^_^**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC**

The only rational, understandable thought flying through my brain at that moment was the fact that Fang was kissing me. Yeah, as in, his lips were on mine, making me want to faint. But I resisted my unsteadiness and just went with the flow, riding this incredible feeling to the end.

_Go with the flow, Max, _a voice said in the back of my mind, and I was fairly sure it was that little devil you see on someone's shoulders in the movies. But then there's always that angel dude too. I pictured a miniature version of myself standing on both my shoulders, one dressed as an angel and the other as a devil. Hmm, that thought was quite humorous, and I tried not to laugh against Fang's slightly parted lips.

_No, Max. You have a boyfriend. Respect him and push Fang away. _Oh, so there was that little booger. On second thought, I really liked just having the devil on my shoulder instead, because at least the advice Devil Max gave me made sense to my rattled mind at that moment.

And I went with the flow.

Butterflies were fluttering throughout my stomach, reminding me that Fang was kissing me and I was kissing him back. Dylan was at the back of my mind at that moment – I didn't even give a crap that we'd left him in the woods to fend for his own self – and the only thing I could think about was Fang's lips settled softly over my own.

Fang's full, slightly chapped lips were pressing gently against mine, slanting his head to the left partly so he could get closer. He dropped my wrists, bringing his hands up to cup my cheeks and pull me closer, if that was even possible. But closer was what we needed, what we were both desperately trying to do.

I suddenly felt lightheaded, and remembered that I had to actually breathe to live. So I breathed through my nose, running my hands up his chest slowly, savoring the feel and shudders of his body against mine, and clutched his shoulders roughly, making it clear to him that I wanted more. He was being too gentle and going too slow for my liking. He'd been right; I did like to go fast, even if I hadn't known it till now.

He smiled against my lips, sliding one hand around my neck and cupping the back of my head, holding it in the exact position he wanted me. I sighed encouragingly, arching my body against his so he could be closer.

Fang was hazardous to my health. He was sending my heart racing and my breath hitching in my throat, making me demand more so I wouldn't lose this feeling his was creating in the pit of my stomach. Like I was flying over the Pacific Ocean, racing with Richard Petty, or even singing with Brantley Gilbert. And I think he knew what he did to me, too.

A foggy idea popped into my head at that moment, and it was something I'd been dying to do since I'd arrived. I removed my hands from the tight grip I had on his shoulders, and ran them down his back till I reached the waistband of his jeans, making him gasp sharply and push into me to get closer. Throwing caution to the wind and deciding to be the daredevil I was born to be, I slipped both hands in Fang's back pockets. Fang made a loud needy sound in the back of his throat, grabbing my right thigh and crushing my body against his. _Hmm, someone likes to have their butt held. _Oh jeez, I was becoming more insane by the minute.

And, just for the record, his butt was every bit as lovely, luscious, soft, firm, and perfect as I had envisioned. I didn't go as far as to grab his butt and mold it in my hands; I was just relishing in the way it fit perfectly in my hands.

Fang's body bucked against mine, and I pushed against him gently, backing him up till he was leaning heavily against the side of this truck. My hands were still in his back pockets, and I had no intention of moving them any time soon. Fang didn't act as if he wanted to remove his long, tanned fingers from my hair, either.

This kiss wasn't a battle of tongues or a slobbery mess. Hell, we didn't even open our mouths. Which was just fine by me, because I didn't like trading spit on the first kiss. Seriously, who did? At least wait till, like, the third or fourth. That way you were better acquainted with each other's mouths.

I had to be the smart here and pull back, because I knew if I didn't I knew we'd both end up doing something we'd regret later on. And I wasn't ready to be a teen mom. Heck, I might be able to get on that show on MTV, you know that one, where there's like fifty teen moms. Yeah, that one! I was beginning to think that young girls were starting to get pregnant just so they could be on TV.

Reluctantly, I pulled back, my eyes heavy-lidded as I tried my darnedest to open them. And when I finally succeeded in my challenging task, I looked up to see Fang gazing dreamily down at me, a starry-eyed look in his dark eyes and a sexy boyish half-grin playing at his lips.

"Wow," he whispered, unenthusiastically removing his hands from where they were tangled in my ratted hair. I really should brush it out the next time I got the chance. "That was... incredible."

Blushing mildly at his gaze, I looked down and pulled my hands from his pockets, wanting nothing more than to attack his lips once again. He spread his arms out a little so I could pull my arms out from behind him. My eyes were still staring into his deep, dark orbs, flabbergasted, and I felt a tiny smile tug at my lips.

Clearing my throat so my voice wouldn't sound so scratchy and hoarse, I replied in nothing but a whisper, "Yeah, I know what you mean." But then I remembered Dylan, and that we'd left him in the woods searching for a bird that doesn't even exist, and my anger flared again. "Uh, Fang? What about Dylan?"

Fang seemed to come back down to earth after my question, and he looked up at the stars, gazing at the multi-colored, twinkling spheres millions of miles away. "He can get out," was Fang's answer, and he shrugged. "He knows these woods."

I didn't totally agree with Fang's careless answer, but I also didn't want to go back in those woods and search for Dylan. Besides, my mind was still mush from that amazing kiss. And I wanted a repeat so bad.

Looking down, tilting my head to the left so my face was out of sight of Fang's immediate view, I pressed a finger softly to my lips, running the tips across the moist plains of my mouth. My lips didn't feel swollen, probably because our kiss wasn't one which involved tongues or opened mouths. But it felt different, foreign somehow.

Dylan had never kissed me like that. Sure, we'd done almost everything other than anything that involved sex, but Fang's kiss was different than Dylan's. Fang's lips just barely grazed mine, testing my reaction before fully settling his mouth over mine. Dylan – well, he sorta _fell _into our first kiss. No lie; he tripped over his feet and banged his nose against mine, just as our lips grazed. I got a black eye and he got a busted nose. It was fun having to explain that to our parents and peers.

"We should go catch up with the others," Fang suggested, and I absentmindedly nodded, mine and Dylan's first kiss still replaying in my head. I moved to the side so Fang was able to push off the bumper, and he grasped my hand firmly in his, pulling me along after him.

It was so crazy. It was like Fang was immune to the raging emotions he was causing inside myself. Admiration, fear, anger, confusion, wanting, jealousy, respect, lust, and something deep down inside that I'd never felt before, something I don't know the name of. I think I liked that one the most. But what was I doing to him? Was he having to violently battle his emotions like I was, or was he exactly what he seemed to be: calm, cool, collected? If he was, I want to know where he'd learned to act so well.

I couldn't say if I was reluctant about leaving Dylan or not. In some ways, I thought that he deserved to be left in there after ditching me and letting me hang out with Fang for the last few hours.

He opened the door for me and held it while I climbed in, deciding that I might as well sit in the middle again so I could be close to Fang. He hopped in after me, pulling the door shut with a resounding slam and starting the truck simultaneously. He kicked it into gear, but before he took off, he looked down at my confused face.

"There's a few more bottles of shine in the back if you want some," he announced huskily in my ear, sickly sweet and ht breath fanning a loose strand of my hair, pointing toward the back while tapping the gas. "Grab me one."

That's what I needed, a bottle of shine. I got to my knees and reached in the back, grabbing two bottles of shine from the wooden crate it'd been sitting on in the floorboard. And who knows, maybe the furious taste of the moonshine coursing down my throat would help take the guilt away I was feeling.

One could only hope in this ride we call life.

**PAGE BREAK! CATS SUCK! DOGS ROCK! I WONDER WHO WOULD WIN AT A WAR?**

I was right, you know. The shine did somewhat help take away the guilt I was feeling after leaving Dylan in the woods. Well, the shine was partly the reason. The other was having Fang's large, tanned, lean hand resting on inner thigh, about eight inches above my knee. His simple touch sent my mind reeling, and I was delirious with wanting and need by the time we reached Old Man Reed's place. Add another full Mason Jar of moonshine on top of a previous one, and you've got a dangerous combination.

Lusting + deliriousness + moonshine + Maximum Ride = Danger. You know, I really freaking hated math at that moment.

I wasn't exactly drunk; not quite, anyway. Slightly more buzzed than I'd been earlier, though. It wasn't my fault. Moonshine, in my opinion, is one of the best alcoholic beverages in the world, and Fang sure knew how to make his shine, if I knew anything. It was smooth yet hard, burning yet cooling, spicy yet sweet. I guess, what I'm trying to say is that it's a freaking amazing-ass drink.

But that's _my _opinion. Try it for yourselves, if you want to confirm it.

Old Man Reed's place was this fifty acre stretch of pasture along the main highway, and – so we wouldn't get caught – everyone had went the long way around through the man's yard and pulled into the south gate, turning the headlights off as they entered. I was almost sure that Old Man Reed was in bed, but you had to be positive. When they were clear of the house, though, they flipped the lights back on and zoomed across the pasture.

Well, that's what Fang and I did, so I only assumed that that's what the others had done too.

From where the headlights shown, I could see Ratchet and everyone crowding around the Challenger still, huddling close and talking. They saw us pull in through the cattle-guard since the lights, and now they were all walking toward the parked truck. Fang removed his hand from my leg and I instantly felt the once-burning area grow cold. I felt depressed and deprived.

Fang hopped out of the driver side, and I scooted over to the passenger's so it wouldn't seem like we'd just been sitting abnormally close to each other. My boots – technically Fang's Mom's – pounded on the hard ground, and my knees buckled slightly on impact but I kept my balance and didn't fall. I could hear the whispers and shouts of the others as they approached steadily, but I was hidden by the door of the truck.

Maya, of course, was the first to notice that my poor boyfriend was missing from our little group. "Where's Dylan?" Her voice was deep and drawn out, slow and alluring. It absolutely pissed me the hell off.

From my dilated eyes, I glared in her general direction because I couldn't see where she was standing due to the fact that Fang had shut the truck's headlights off and I was still partly blind. But, let me just say, if Maya could see my face, she'd be running for the hills at breakneck speed. What can I say? I have that affect on people; it was just a gift.

Had the others not heard what Fang had said right before he'd marched toward his truck with Dylan? _Me, you, and Max are goin' snipe huntin', okay? _That's what I'd heard, but then again, I was standing right next to them. The others didn't have front row seats like I had.

I casted a glance at Fang, pleading with him to not tell everyone about how we left Dylan behind and our little kiss. And I think he somehow sensed that I was staring at him, if not saw me, and just smirked wickedly.

"He got sick on the way and we dropped him off at my place so he could sober up a little," Fang said in answer to Maya's question, and I saw the confusion dancing across her features as I slammed the door and walked toward the others. "He was drinkin' some coffee last time I checked."

I sent a thank you up to God, if He was even watching me make a fool of myself in this town, and let out a relieved breath. On the way over here, I'd negotiated myself into believing that Dylan knew those woods and would be able to get out. And if he didn't? Well, he _did _have a pan and wooden stick for protection.

Everyone shrugged the matter of Dylan off their shoulders – well, everyone expect for Maya. She was really annoying, digging around in other people's business. It wasn't that hard to keep your nose clean. Wait, that sounded like a drug metaphor didn't it? Well, you get what I mean.

"We waited for you," Ratchet said, coming up to stand in front of Fang, blocking my view of everyone since I was standing beside Fang. "We didn't wanna start and get caught before you got to have some fun." Ratchet grinned wildly at Fang, and winked amusingly at me.

Fang smiled back and nodded in answer to Ratchet, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he steered passed Ratchet and headed toward the others. I loved the way the weight of his arm felt on my shoulders, and at that very moment it surprised me that I actually tried to settle for something less other than this incredible feeling. With Dylan, there was a spark, sure, but with Fang, there was a full-blown wildfire. Which one do you think is more exciting and tempting? Exactly.

Ari caught my eyes, a knowing smile tweaking at his lips. He'd heard what Fang had said, and he knew that Dylan was somewhere in the woods at this very moment. Hell, Ari seemed to have liked the idea of not having Dylan around for a while. To be honest, I did too.

"So y'all all know what cow tippin' is, right?" Fang asked the group as they crowded around us. Some were wearing questioning looks as they caught sight of Fang's arm around my shoulders and me tucked against his side, and the other half looked amused and slightly happy. Maya was the only exception to both of them; she looked severely ticked off.

There was a volley of 'yeses', and I had to rack my mind for every bit of information I knew about cow tipping. I knew that someone had made it up because they believed – some people do actually – that cows stand up while they sleep. Now, I'm not a cattle rancher, so I have no idea if that theory is real or not. But I have seen cows lay down to rest or eat their cud. So my limited knowledge of the country was totally unhelpful in this situation.

"Sweet, let's roll," Iggy said, jumping up and down excitedly and flinging his hands out. I'd seen Ari and Dylan – and I have even done it – do that little jerky move right before a game. I always thought it was to loosen up, but maybe it was actually for calming down the adrenaline racing through your veins right before you take the field or the court.

We all followed Iggy, who had undisputedly elected himself as our leader, heading passed the cars as Ratchet shut the engine off on the Challenger. The large, grassy field went completely dark, and I forced my eyes to adjust so I could see. The huge full moon overhead helped my light-deprived vision, somewhat.

Fang's arm tightened around my shoulders as we wondered further away from the vehicles, the only noise surrounding us the sound of our feet hitting the hard ground. It was nice out tonight; not too hot, not too cold. Which was just how I liked it. I shivered slightly as the wind picked up around us, swooping under and lifting stray pieces of hay or grass, and Fang pulled me closer. If that was even possible.

I wanted to kiss Fang again; there, I said it. I truly, honestly, hopelessly, without a doubt wanted to smack my lips against his and kiss him like we were both born for it. Which, right at this moment, I thought was true of Fang. The dude had an amazing talent for kissing.

By the time I was finished fantasizing about Fang's lips against my own, I could see several cows come into view, lying underneath a couple large cedars. My mind went blank, and I heard my brain give a little _poof _sound as all my intelligence was kicked out my ears. Now, how were we supposed to tip a cow if it was laying down? Seriously, go ahead and answer, because I had no clue.

But, thankfully, I didn't have to ask because the Gasman answered my unspoken question for me. "We're gonna have to get 'em up first." His voice, deeper than Ari's but no where near Fang's or Ratchet's, had an amused and slightly aggravated tone to it. I couldn't blame him, because I didn't really feel like picking a freaking cow up.

"Or we could scare 'em just the way they are," Star suggested, looking at Ratchet as she spoke. You could tell how much they loved each other; the way they look and talk to each other tells me that those two are going to make it. It's like they've already gone through every hardship they could possibly face, and now they're ready to start a life together.

Pssh, I better be invited to the wedding then. V.I.P. seats too.

Angel shrugged. "Guess so. They ain't goin' no where." I loved to hear her talk. Her voice was just so – well, angelic, I guess is a good way to put it. Her voice was smooth and ran like molasses in the summer. A beautiful voice makes a beautiful girl. And Angel, luckily, had both voice and looks. Her cornsilk yellow hair and deep blue eyes made her arguably prettier than most girls her age.

"So what do we do?" Holden, still being shunned by Fang and me for his little incident, asked as he sourly glared at the lazy cows. We were still several yards away, so our voices didn't carry over to the animals and wake them up. I was thankful for that, because I really didn't feel like being tromped trampled on by a pissed off mama cow. No, ma'am, I didn't like that idea one bit.

Maya was the one who answered this time, and her silkily husky voice sent angry jitters throughout my whole body. "Guess so," she retorted, kicking at a tiny rock which hit me in the heel of the boot. I was convinced that the bitch was aiming for me.

My body trembled slightly from my frustration, and Fang must've thought I was cold, because he pulled me even tighter. And then I was reminded of our sweet first kiss, and my cheeks heated at the candid memory. Even if I never saw Fang again, I would forever remember that kiss.

"How about we ride instead?" Ari asked no one in particular, his large blue eyes suddenly even larger. Everyone looked at him, expecting him to explain since the cows were on the ground. He flustered. "After we get 'em up, I mean."

Hmm. I contemplated the question, kicking it back and forth in my mind for a moment. It seemed fairly good, I guess, since there was no way we could tip a cow laying down. But we could ride one after we got it up. Maybe I could shove Maya off...

"I vote that Max goes first."

My mind went blank, my eyes went wide, and my mouth dropped open in the international _WTF _face. Sure, I was gonna do it, but I refused to be the first damn one. And who said it? Who had the balls to volunteer me without my consent? Why, yes, you're right. Maya. Oh yeah, I was pissed.

I swung my head around toward her, and saw the devious grin she was sporting thanks to the overhead moon. My anger was boiling, and I was about ready to burst. Maya just wanted to see me embarrass myself, and I refused to play in her game.

"What the –" I was cut off by Fang, who removed his arm from around my shoulders and then immediately grasped my hand. Angry and surprised, I looked questioningly up at him, my eyes wide. _What the hell are you doing, Fang?_

"I'll ride it with you," he said, and I honestly felt like shooting myself.

Really, Fang? You'll ride with me first? I couldn't believe that he was blind to the fact that Maya was just being a bitch. She was probably still ticked about me telling her off a while ago, and wanted to get back at me by shoving me out of my comfort zone. But you can expand those things.

Although I guess it was a good thing that I was riding with him, because it gave me a reason to wrap my arms around him. My heart fluttered at the warming thought, and I grinned back at Maya evilly.

"Sure, I'll go first," I complied, my humor soaring at the sight of her surprised face. And then I added as saucily and seductively as I possibly could, "With Fang." Maya's face fell, and I had to restrain myself from rubbing it in her face.

The whole time I'd been talking and thinking, Iggy and the guys had roused up several cows and the animal was now standing up angrily, mooing in annoyance at being woken up reluctantly. I felt bad for them.

Still holding Fang's hand, I dragged him over toward the huge, crème and mocha-colored animal, not even sparing anyone a glance as I hauled myself up on the animal like I was a pro. I wasn't, in case you were wondering.

I looked down at Fang, settling myself more comfortably on the cow, and saw that he'd made no move to follow. "You comin' or what?" I asked him, and my voice still had a slight alluring tone to it. Fang caught on to it and immediately jumped up on the cow's back, wrapping his arms around my waist and kicking the animal in the side to get it to moving.

And so we trotted off on the cow, bumping slightly as she picked up her speed into a moderate jog, my hands intertwined with Fang's on my waist. He laid his head on my shoulder, his hat grazing my ear, and I leaned back into him, loving the feeling of being in his strong arms. Screw Dylan; Fang was perfect.

"So, what's up between you and Maya?" he asked casually, whispering in my ear as he scooted into me. I had to suppress a that ran down my spine, although I was certain Fang had felt it by the deep chuckle he granted my ear with.

Pushing my face into the crook of his neck, I breathed heavily and answered, "She doesn't like me." Which, in all senses, was the truth. It wasn't my fault that I'm the way I am. Besides, it was her fault that we acted so hatefully toward each other because she was the one that initiated this fight at the pond, when she tried to make me jealous by saying that her and Fang were going to get married. And it'd worked, till I found out that she was just a lying, jealous, clingy ex-girlfriend.

Fang's breathing suddenly quickened and he pulled me closer, cradling me with his thighs. "She's only jealous. Which is understandable," he replied, and I cocked my head to look up at him questioningly. Okay, Mister, explain yourself. "You're beautiful, funny, smart, tough, brave, loud, loyal – you're indescribable. You're unique, Max."

That had to have been the most mushy-gushy, touching, feminine thing I'd heard any boy every say about me. Even my own Dad. And I liked the way it made me feel, like I was cherished and envied. It made it even more special coming from Fang's lips.

"And that turns me on," he whispered throatily in my ear, his breath making a furious set of trembles cascade down my spine and flock throughout my whole body. He turned me on, too. And I was so totally ready to throw caution to the wind, to dare myself to do something I'd never done. To give myself to Fang.

And when I give of myself, I give completely.

I lifted my lips up, pursued slightly so Fang knew what I wanted, and just as his lips grazed mine, his tongue flickering over my closed mouth, we were thrown off the cow. Just like that.

Later, after everything had cooled down, I'd found out that the cow had seen a small rodent and charged, but she stopped suddenly and flung us off. I was pretty pissed to say in the least, because I could totally see myself riding off into the night with Fang on our smelly cow. Sadly, I wasn't able to live my fantasy out. I felt like my Mom, suddenly, and how she always cried over her fantasies about Fabio. Eww...

We were both thrown forward, flying off the cow's back and landing hard as hell on the ground. I hit my knees, somersaulting forward several times before I finally came to a stop, laying down on my back, gazing dazedly up at the stars. My head had came in contact with the ground sharply, and now I had a throbbing headache.

Fang landed on top of me – how convenient – and my body stopped his forward momentum. I groaned, rolling over to the side in a feeble attempt to ease the splinting pain in my skull.

Worriedly, Fang grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back over, his face coming into my view, only a few inches away. He had a tiny cut above his left eyebrow, and dirt and grass my covering every part of his body. I grinned up at him, letting him know that I was okay, and he smiled down at me, releasing a heavy sigh as he laid his head on my chest.

Laying there, listening to the cow moo softly as it ate at some grass, I let my hands feather into Fang's hair, smoothing the silky tresses through my fingers. I sighed in content, pulling his head up so I could look him in the eyes.

"Fang," I whispered, my voice clouded with need. The need to kiss him. And Fang saw that need, because he felt it too. And so he let his lips drop onto mine for the third time that nigh, light as a feather.

He knew what I needed; Fang understood me like no other guy had. And that turned me on, for some reason, though I wasn't going to fight my raging attraction for him any longer. Why put myself through that strenuous task? What was the point in fighting it any longer?

Fang and I were attracted to each other. Plain and simple. Take it or leave. It wasn't our fault; we met each other and the sparks started to fly. We couldn't stop it or help it; it's the way it's supposed to be, I guess. And yes, I was dating Dylan, but would it kill me to take on night off? Fang was actually here beside me; Dylan was somewhere off in the woods trying to catch a stupid bird that doesn't even exist.

That right there tells you who's the smarter of the two, doesn't it?

So I'd made up my mind; I was going to act on the emotions I felt for Fang. I just hoped I didn't make a fool of myself while doing it. Besides, like I mentioned earlier, Dylan was in the woods blindly chasing after some nonexistent bird while Fang was here with me. It was like Dylan was practically shoving me into Fang's awaiting arms. And I wasn't going to complain any about that.

The feeling of the tip of Fang's tongue slinking across my lips jerked me from my thoughts, and I moaned loudly as I parted my lips and let him in. Our tongues slid against each other, sending racking feel-good shivers down both of our spines. Fang grabbed my leg and pulled it on top of him, creating a cradle for himself as he laid himself down on top of me.

I welcomed his weight with the pleasure of a kid who'd just ate fifty Snickers Bars, and pulled at his hair to let him know that I loved this. He brought his hand up, running it up along the left side of my body, and I sighed as he jerked me roughly into him.

And then, suddenly, there was this brightly blinding light shining somewhere off to my left, but I ignored as I arched myself into Fang and fought his tongue for dominance. He won, of course, and I just let him work his magic.

That is, until I heard a groggy, angry, and annoyed voice holler, "Hey! What do you think you're a-doin', sonny?"

Old Man Reed?

**SO? Watcha think about my little attempt at T-rated romance? I hope it wasn't terrible, but I did like this chapter because a similar thing happened to me. No, I wasn't with a boy or riding a cow; it was a goat. And I got bucked off the back and hurt my poor little tailbone. It still hurts sometimes. **

**Is it too much to ask...? REVIEW! And make my day! :) It's still for you, **Yesmeen**!**

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hope you enjoyed that last chapter! :) The incident with the cow actually happened to me, but it was a goat instead. Yeah, I know, pathetic right? Not my fault; my dad said my nephew and I couldn't stay on for 8 seconds. Pssh, I did! I'm not so sure if my nephew did though... Anyhow, after that deal, we were attacked by these midget chickens called bannies. Yep, fun day!**

**Replying to a reviewer: **_Peeta just didn't appeal to me the way Gale did in the books. I don't know why; maybe it's because Gale and Katniss are best friends and they have serious history. But I absolutely hate Peeta. But... I still dig the fact that you spoke up. :)_

**Oh, and there's two new song sI want to add: **_I Don't Want This Night To End by Luke Brian_. **I heard it on the radio, and was all like "Holy that's sweet!" And I thought it fit this story:) Oh, and on with the story! And the next is, **Tailgate by Colt Ford. **Both are badass, and I suggest you listen to them. **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

You wanna know a little secret? I was really starting to get aggravated at being interrupted so much. Seriously, though, I was getting _ticked_. How many times had I been interrupted already? Yeah, even I didn't know the answer to that.

Anyway, getting back to the point currently at hand, Old Man Reed was approaching Fang and me super fast, holding a flashlight in one hand and a .22 in the other. Fang was still on top of me, my hands entangled in his amazingly smooth hair, with me beneath him and my legs cradling him. Our lips were swollen and pouty from our intense kissing. Yeah, I know what it looked like we'd been doing, but that wasn't true. Well, it wasn't yet.

Fang and I froze, my hands tensing and pulling at his hair slightly, while his hot breath was fanning my chilled face. I bet Fang and me looked like a love-sick teenage couple who'd just been caught getting a little freaky on the ground. If I hadn't been the one caught, I would no doubt have died with laughter. But, sadly, I was...

Old Man Reed stopped about fifteen feet short from us, bending down and crinkling his eyes into small slits in an attempt to get a better look at us. "Hawthorne, is that you I see?" he asked, his old and groggy voice slurring the words.

Fang groaned loudly, pushing up off me and flipping onto his bottom, leaning back on his arms for support. "Who else would it be, Reed?" Fang's voice was dripping with sarcasm and anger, his southern drawl sounding manipulated by his frustration. He was ticked about having to cut our make-out session short; I didn't blame him, because I was just about as mad as him, if not more. Probably more, considering Fang was an amazing kisser.

Reed huffed a loud breath, pointing his .22 at me where I was still laying on the ground, my clothes ruffled as if I'd just been in a wrestle match. Yeah, a wrestle match with my tongue... Embarrassment burned in my veins at that tempting thought, and I turned my face toward the wind to cool my flaming cheeks off.

"This your new toy, Hawthorne?" Reed asked, his tone implying that he was pissed smooth off. I didn't like the way he said Fang's name, as if he looked down on Fang for some unknown reason. "You move fast, kid. Just last week it was my daughter and Calandra, right?"

In the limited hours I'd been here, I'd met a few people who hated Fang, but also tons more people who absolutely loved and respected him, treating him as if he were royalty. I liked those people. Because I was one of them. Fang was a force to be reckoned with; he was just that way. He took over his Dad's farm after the guy had an accident, and was doing a damn good job at keeping it in mint condition. Fang was someone who was envied and cherished. Fang was... Fang.

Anger and mortification flashed through my body, bathing my cheeks in a deep, crimson red. I didn't like being referred as someone's _toy. _Sorry, but that just pissed me off beyond end. No one owned me; I was my own damn person. And sure, Fang and I had just been having an intense make-out session right by a cow patty – which was cow crap, for all you city slickers – on someone else's land. It was the most convenient place at the time.

Fang's deep gaze flickered at me, and he gave me a secret smile, as if those two girls were like dirt to him and I was like the Holy Grail. Hmm, I liked that.

He turned back to Old Man Reed, his face twisting in undeniable anger and annoyance. "Calandra is married, Reed," Fang explained, pushing himself on the ground and wiping his hands on his jeans before helping me up. Then he reached downward and grabbed his fallen hat, blowing the dirt off and settling it onto his head professionally. "And your daughter? She's pregnant, and the kid ain't mine. I'd go talk to Bo Lukas if I was you."

_He got with a _married _woman? _was the only thought coursing through my brain besides how he knew that girl was pregnant. Total shock and confusion entered my body. The wicked grin Fang had displayed on his handsome face was infuriating to Reed, and the old man raised his gun up to point it at Fang's face.

Fear shot through me, freezing me in my position next to Fang. My hand was gripping his with so much force and pressure that it surprised me he wasn't hollering in pain. But he wasn't doing that; instead he was calm, cool, and collected as he stared down the barrel of the .22.

"I'll give ya a ten second head start to get the hell off my property, or I shoot ya dead." Reed's voice was cold and calculating, and I knew the old man wasn't lying. Besides, he had every right to bear arms against us. We were trespassing on his property after all.

So I spun on my heel and took off, practically dragging Fang behind me as I ran my fastest. Well, my fastest in boots. From behind me, I could hear Fang's feet clobbering on the ground, kicking up dust as he tried unsuccessfully to catch up to my breakneck speed. Sorry, but it'll be a cold day in hell when I am shot because of someone else.

I knew I was fast, and I knew Fang was fast too, but he couldn't keep up with me. I was dodging armadillo holes, jumping over cow patties, and zig-zagging through the patches of tall grass that littered the pasture. The only other thing on my mind at that frightening moment beside the fact that Old Man Reed had a shotgun after us was Fang, when he had his lips pressed firmly against mine and his tongue was creating wondrous sensations in my body. I shivered just thinking about it.

The whole time I was running, fear flowing freely through my body, I couldn't help but count the seconds down. _10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... _And that's when I heard the first shot was fired.

From how far I was ahead of Reed, I could tell that the shot was fired into the air instead of aimed at either of us. That little tidbit of info didn't stop my forward progress, and I revved up my speed. Fang was, sadly, still being dragged behind me, fumbling to keep his hat on his head.

At this point, I wasn't so sure if I was running at all. With my fear countable, I could barely feel my feet graze the ground as another round of shots went off, this time aimed to the left of us. It seemed like I was flying, floating through the air with invisible wings.

I couldn't help the loud, shrill scream that escaped my lips as I heard the bullet whiz passed us, and Fang squeezed my hand in reassurance as he finally came to run alongside me, but he was still struggling to keep up with my uncanny pace. His feet were stumbling over each other, and he was screaming out very colorful swear words at Old Man Reed.

I realized that this was the fastest I'd ever ran, in a game or on the track field. Maybe I should start having someone shoot at me so I would get my lazy ass up and in gear. Wait, that's illegal right? Never mind.

Hearing Reed pump up the gun for another round, I looked ahead and saw everyone standing near the large tree, craning their heads painfully to the right so they could catch a glimpse at whoever was shooting. I could tell when they saw us, because a few large smiles broke across faces, then annoyed glares, frightened looks and confused glimpses.

Reed fired the gun again, and this time the bullet connected with a limb in the tree. As if they were stupid idiots, everyone just stayed where they were standing, acting as if a gun hadn't just been shot. Sorry, but they were freaking dumbasses.

"Run!" I screamed at them as I ran passed them, motioning with my free hand for them to get a move on. Reed fired again, and that's what sent everyone in motion. Ari and Nudge came up beside me, looking scared yet excited. Ratchet and Kate were beside Fang, and I could hear Ratchet cussing Fang out to no end, complaining that he needed to straighten up before he got someone killed.

At that moment, running for my life with Fang's hand grasping mine tightly, I felt an untimely laughter bubble up in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't restrain it as it escaped from my lips. Maybe it was the realizing of pent-up anger and fear, or even just because I'd made out with Fang. Call it whatever you want to, but it felt freaking great to laugh.

I knew I was receiving multiple looks of confusion and shock from everyone as we ran and dodged cow patties, and that fact only made me laugh harder. Reed, far behind us now, pumped and shot again, aiming up at the sky once more. By now, I think he was just trying to make sure that we were scared and left his land. Well, he'd accomplished that task, scaring the shit out of me with his .22.

By the time we reached the vehicles, bathed in darkness and a glistening sheen of condensation, tears of laughter were coursing down my cheeks, and I wiped at them as Fang and I slowed down somewhat.

Thanks to the overhead moon, I could see everyone perfectly clear as they skedaddled to their vehicles, dropping over hoods, hopping through windows, and even the occasional tripping. It was actually pretty damn funny, seeing Ratchet and Iggy trip over themselves as they tried to help Holden up, who'd fallen into an armadillo hole. I wish I'd had my iPhone with me, because I would've been recording that crap and winning some money.

"Meet at the old water tower by the Bradford's!" Fang hollered at everyone, telling them where to meet at like the undisputed leader he was. There was a volley of 'yeses' and 'go to hell, dumbass' but I knew that everyone had heard and would comply to Fang's orders.

Fang never once let go of my hand as we angled toward the truck, leaving everyone as they started up their 4x4 trucks and stormed off. By then, Fang and I were both laughing hysterically, and it took him several tries to open the door. Watching Fang fumble with such an easy task only cracked me up even more and it took me a couple moments to recover enough to climb in.

He followed after me, reaching for the keys and starting the truck before switching into Reverse and tearing out of there, following after the taillights of the others. Our headlights shown once on Old Man Reed, and I watched as the dude fell into an armadillo hole as he chased after us. That was some funny crap.

Neither of us stopped laughing till we hit the main highway, rumbling as we waited for everyone to pull out and head toward the water tower. Fang looked at me, and I returned his gaze, a grin plastered on my face. I liked this, hanging out with him and not caring who we pissed off as long as we have fun.

I could easily get used to this kind of life.

Fang gave me a soft smile, reaching for my hand and pulling our intwined fingers up on his leg. "So, you havin' fun?" he asked gently, whispering into my ear, his deep southern drawl sending shivers down my spine.

The only thing I could so was nod as he handed me another Mason Jar filled with moonshine. I was really begging to think that shine should be an important part to kids' everyday nutrition. The parents probably wouldn't like it, though. Oh well, they could go suck something for all I care.

**PAGE BREAK! DIRT ROAD ANTHEM TO THE END! AND NOT JASON ALDEAN'S VERSION! BRANTLEY GILBERT ROCKS MY SHOX! =)**

The old water tower was off the main highway, at the end of a dirt road and off on a pad – which was this large driveway-type thing made from gravel – with a green and red grasshopper, which was a pump that went in the ground and drilled oil and gas out. And the damn thing was loud.

The water tower was maybe fifty feet high and made entirely of old, rotting wood. It leaned to the left slightly, looking extremely off balance and like it was about to fall over right there. The long wooden pillars supporting it looked like they were about to give in with the burdened weight, and I could see a latter running up the farthest side of it. In the middle, written in faded light brown letters – the same color as my eyes – was 'Monroe', with an eagle painted beneath it.

It wasn't a terrible tower, I guess. Different than the one in Tulsa, with its large white dome and 'Tulsa' written in huge, crimson letters. I actually liked this one better; it was simpler and easy on the eyes, not big or bulky or too clean.

Fang and I pulled up behind the others, shining our lights brightly just like everyone else. They all had annoyed and scared expressions painting their shadowed faces, but Maya even looked slightly pissed off. Oh well, she probably just missed Dylan. Oh hell, Dylan!

A sudden worriment and frustration popped up in my mind, and I squeezed Fang's hand hard, letting him know that he wasn't about to get out before I'd had a talk with his devilishly handsome ass. And I think he knew my intentions, because he settled back into the seat, relaxing as if he'd be here for a while.

I didn't know where to start as I turned around in the truck, facing him. He was dirty all over – I was too – but I think the dust just added to his perfect face, and I couldn't stop the luminously light and needy feeling that began to boil up in my belly. I opened my mouth to speak, but Fang cut me off. And no, it wasn't with his lips this time. Sadly.

"If this is about Dylan, don't even start 'cause he's just fine," he announced, digging into his back pocket for his phone and pulling it out so I could see. I noted that it was a Droid X; classy and high-tech. "See, he sent me a message sayin' he was okay."

I eagerly grabbed the phone from Fang's hand and read the text message. _Yo, dumbass. What the hell's up with u and Max tricking me like that? Whatever, I'm at ur place, so don't freak if u can't find me asshole. _Dylan still didn't have proper grammar while he texted. Guess you can take the guy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the guy. Wait, wasn't that a song by Alan Jackson, or someone like that? Oh well, it described Dylan perfectly.

After I read it, I grinned and handed the phone back to Fang. Dylan was A-okay, which was great – don't get me wrong – but would it really have been that bad if he was lost for several hours while I had some alone time with Fang? Honestly, would it? I didn't think so, but I was still drunk on Fang's intoxicating kiss right beside a cow patty. Romantic, huh?

Fang pocketed his phone again, opening the door and swinging one leg out, but he didn't hop down or get out. Instead, he placed his thumb under my chin, tilted my face up, and pecked me lightly on the lips, butterfly soft. I barely had time to react, and just as I started to unashamedly kiss him back, he broke it and exited the truck, marching over to the others without so much as a glance at me.

Well, what the hell? Seriously, he just friggin' kissed me like I was a priceless doll and then he ran off like a dog with its tail between its legs? Now, how in the world am I supposed to interpret that kind of behavior? It felt like I was being dissed, and I don't like that feeling because usually I am the one dissing people. I really should stop doing that; it hurts.

Grabbing the shine off the dashboard and huffing a loud breath at Fang's weird actions, I jumped out and slammed the door so everyone would know that I, Maximum (freaking) Ride was there, in the flesh with burrowed clothes and shoes, drinking shine and ready to party her ass off.

And everyone looked, too. Especially Fang the weirdo and Maya the jealous freak.

Sighing and sipping at the shine, I walked up to everyone, my steps a bit staggering from the boots and the alcohol. It was good though; it remind me that I wasn't so numb to my attraction to Fang that I couldn't feel anything.

All the guys were huddled together, talking about something seemingly important since the girls were all in the back of Ratchet's white Silverado, sipping beers. I noticed that once of them had moonshine like me, and I silently wondered if I was the only girl with the privilege of drinking shine. Hmm, I wouldn't mind any.

The tailgate was already down, so I simply had to pull myself up on the side with the bed, my boots resounding against the metal. Kate was sitting on a tire with Nudge sharing it with her; Star was giggling and talking with Maya while lounging on the side of the bed; and Angel was sitting on the tailgate, swinging her legs and drinking a Coke.

So I sat down beside her, because I liked her.

"Hey, Ange. What's up?" I asked kindly, trying to make polite conversation, although probably failing miserably since I'd never been much of a talker. Smooth, Max, smooth.

Angel shrugged, her cornsilk curls bouncing around her face with the sudden movement. "Nothin' much, just mad 'cause Fang won't let me drink," she said poutingly, sounding every bit like the little kid she was.

I didn't find anything wrong with that, considering she was underage and Fang would probably get in deep duty if he let her drink. "Well, you're little, Angel. You gotta understand that Fang doesn't mean anything bad by that. He's just looking out for you."

Angel sighed, taking a long drink of her Coke. "Actually, I'll be seventeen next month," she said, and I swear I about fell off the tailgate in my surprise. She was _sixteen_? She barely looked old enough to be in middle school, let alone a year and a half younger than me. Well, you know what they say, I guess: _You can't judge a book by its cover. _Oh, how that was so true.

Without thinking, I handed her my jar of moonshine, and she took it enthusiastically, bringing it up to her lips and taking a long, drawn-out gulp. Wow, this girl had a knack for surprising me.

After that, our conversation ceased and I was able to hear everyone else as they talked. The girls were talking about nothing in particular, about Brantley Gilbert and his concert in Fort Smith, or something like that. But the guys – now, their conversation was different. They were considering what to do next without being caught by Johnny Law or possibly harming anyone.

Without thinking – wow, that seemed to be a repeating motif in my life at this very moment – I hollered, "Just pull the damn tower over already." It wasn't a terrible idea; the tower was already leaning slightly, and it wouldn't take that much to pull it the rest of the way over.

The guys looked at me, shocked and a little confused, but I could see the amused smile lighting up Fang's dark face. Yep, I'd said something right.

"Not a bad idea," Fang said, pondering my exclamation as if it were the cure for cancer and he figuring out how to get the word out. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was just screwing around and I didn't mean what I'd said. But he was right. It wasn't a bad idea, and it'd be pretty damn funny.

"I got some chain in the back of my truck, but I ain't sure if it's enough," Ratchet said, taking a liking to the idea. He motioned for Star to get the chain that was laying the in the farthest right corner of the bed, and she picked it up, handing it to me so the Gasman could get it.

Its cold, irony weight landed in my hands, and I about dropped it because it was heavier than it looked. At least fifty pounds, which was a lot in chain length. Gassy took it from my struggling fingers, the shocking weight not even registering in his mind, and he gave me a wicked grin as he walked off. Well now, wasn't he full of himself?

"I got another thirty or forty feet in my bed," Fang said, and he asked Ari if he'd go and fetch it. My brother – young and naïve, and even a little tipsy – obliged and ran toward the dark vehicle.

Sadly, since Fang's truck was black, it was dark out, and the overhead trees provided a light-deprived area – and add Ari's slight buzz to the mix – he ran right into the brush guard, screaming out obscenities as he clutched at his knee. I only laughed, moonshine coming out my nose (pleasant, huh) as I watched him amble toward the back of the truck, more sober than he was a moment before.

Angel and me shared the jar, passing it back and fourth as we talked about nothin at all and yet everything at the same time, and I was faintly aware of Fang backing his truck up. The shine was clouding up my mind rapidly, but that kiss Fang and I'd shared on the pasture ground was still fresh in my memory.

Him on top of me, pushing against me and trying to get closer while I had my legs wrapped around him and my hands in his hair, urging him on. His tongue flickering across my lips and entering my inexperienced mouth, only to ravish me with the utmost respect and knowledge.

And then it hit me. He'd done that before. He'd kissed a girl, knowing that she wasn't so mature in the art of kissing, and made her fall in love with him right as he took her mouth. Anger raced through my brain, and I breathed a calming breath to help saturate the fire burning in my chest. Sadly for Fang, I wouldn't fall for him so easily.

By the time I'd finished thinking, they'd tied about a seventy feet of steel chain around the tower and then fastened the latch on the hitch of Fang's truck. I could tell that this was going to be an interesting event, considering that every was either half-assed drunk or retarded. Yep, this was gonna be freaking hilarious.

They were using my idea and attempting to pull down the old water tower using Fang's truck. Hmm, okay, whatever. I still didn't fully understand the ways of these crazy countryfolk, and I didn't think I'd ever would. But they were _fun_.

All the girls, still sitting in the back of Ratchet's truck, situated themselves more comfortably, ready to watch the show they guys were about to put on. I just stayed where I was, propping my right foot up and laying my right arm over it as I drank from the half-empty Mason Jar.

Fang got in his truck and told the others to step back, making sure they were okay and out of harms way if something went wrong. He left the door open and slammed down on the gas. And that's when it happened; an event so shocking that I fell off the tailgate in hysterics.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Fang's highly powerful 4x4, 2500 HD, Silverado jerked on the tower and it came rushing down, falling at about the rate of a snail. Fang, hearing the shouts and screams of everyone, jumped out and ran back as he watched the tower fall on his truck.

The tower landed loudly on the truck, the noise almost deafening as it crushed the cab down to a pancake. I clamped my hands over Angel's ears, and her scream was drowned out by the sound of the tower falling apart. Glass and parts of the truck flew everywhere, hitting several trees that surrounded us. One even hit the grasshopper's fuel line, and it started to spray oil out everywhere, even on a few of us. I wasn't a pro oil rig driller, but I knew that if we didn't fix that we'd be in serious duty.

The water tower, turns out, was still occupied by a large amount of water, and when it crashed against the truck, it came gushing out. Luckily, us girls were up off the ground and we didn't get washed away. Unluckily, the guys were all surrounding the truck, shocked and angry expressions on their faces, and when the water hit them they were washed several yards away.

And then everything was silent; nothing could be heard except the rushing water, the spraying oil, and the sound of crunching metal as we all recovered from the initial shock of watching a vehicle being smashed. I searched out Fang's face, and saw unmistakeable anger boiling in his midnight eyes.

I was speechless; there wasn't exactly any words I could say to make this moment any better than it already was or even tell Fang that it was going to be okay. I hiccuped a little from the shine, my eyes wide in astonishment.

"Well shit!" Fang screamed.

**So, what'd ya think? This one was more of a filler, I guess, and it was shorter than the others, but I liked it. And don't be afraid to review, cuz we've hit 150! Holy shit that's a lot! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, and even sent me PMs. And no this story ain't over yet; we still got multiple-digit chapters left – well, I think, at least. =)**

**_READ_: Okay, a little fun trivia for ya. Gimme a review if you know what this means – **He's a genius. With snares**. It's not that hard people!**

**The idea of this story came from Justin** McBride's song 'That Was Us'.** Go listen to it; it's really awesome. Well, I like it, but I'm just me. It's also one of the songs of the story, if you hadn't read the LONG a/n about the songs. **

**YO, read this:**** Will someone please tell me the difference between a HIT and ****visitor? What the crap's up with that? Please and thank you! ;)**

**HEY, don't forget to REVIEW!**


	14. Chapter 14

**READ::: Okay, 2 questions. And please answer them! Thanks!**

_**A) What is the difference between a HIT and a VISITOR?**_

_**B) Is Avan Jogia going to play Fang in the movie?**_

**Oh, and for those of you who DIDN'T get what **He's a genius. With snares. **Meant, I'll tell you. It means Gale Hawthorne, from the Hunger Games. I saw the picture on Google, and was all like "Hoi, that's cool!" Swear, that's the exact sound I made. HOI! **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Fang's loud exclamation echoed throughout the whole clearing, as if it was reverberating off the trees and bouncing back into our ears. He was mad – wait, that's an understatement if I ever knew one. He was extremely pissed smooth off, so mad that it surprised me steam wasn't blowing from his ears.

That thought made me laugh, and I fell off the tailgate in hysterics, dropping the moonshine jar to shatter on the ground and clutching the side that came in contact with a half-buried rock. I knew it was a bad idea to laugh in a situation like this, but I couldn't help it. I was the kind of person that laughed at life and didn't take things way too seriously.

The truck, I noticed out of the corner of my slitted eye, looked like a pancake, smashed in between the ground and tower, with the water substituting as syrup and the pieces of wood little chocolate chips.

Thinking that, I laughed even harder, my loud guffaws echoing in the silent patch of trees that we were hidden in. I knew I should stop – I knew it would be the smartest thing to stop laughing – but I couldn't. It's like when someone tells you not to do something, you do it anyway. You can't help yourself; it's the rush of breaking the rules that lures you in and gets you high on adrenaline. That's what was wrong with me.

I knew that Fang was glaring at me, picking himself up off the ground where the water had washed him, and he was silently murdering me with the daggers he was sending at me. He wasn't just mad that his truck had just been squashed, totaled, underneath an old water tower; he was mad at me because it had been my idea. Although, the only reason it popped into my head was because of the moonshine he'd given me. So, technically, it was _his _fault.

But it wasn't like I was going to try to explain that to him unless I wanted to have an early funeral.

I rolled back over, my uncontrollable laughter letting up slightly, and saw the other guys as they struggled up to their feet, their clothes and hair dripping with water. Ratchet was pulling Ari up, who kept slipping in the fresh mud; Holden and Iggy were leaning on each other for balance; the Gasman used a tree to help stand himself up; and Fang was already on his feet firmly, his face beet red from vexation. Part of which was directed at yours truly.

The girls – all of them, not just a few – jumped off the truck, each narrowly missing my squirming body, and raced toward their men, each enfolding someone into a tight embrace. Angel wrapped the Gasman in a steel hug since they were siblings. Nudge went straight up to Ari and slanted her lips against his in a kiss that was out of relief more than anything. Kate hopped into Holden's outstretched arms, wrapping her skinny arms around his neck in a death grip. Star launched herself in Ratchet's arms, and Maya had to pick between a staggering Iggy or a seething Fang.

The choice was obvious; she picked Iggy.

And the only person left was Fang. He was the one, in my clouded opinion, that deserved to be hugged the most, because he was the one in the freaking truck when the tower started to fall. I was so glad he got out in time, even if it took the tower forever to fall to the ground. Fang was the one that deserved to be cuddled and loved, not the others.

Looking at Fang attentively, I noticed that he looked like an avenging angel right at that moment, his dark clothes glistening with water and his hair blowing limply in the wind, with his mud-caked boots and devilishly handsome face. Well, a country boy avenging angel, but you get the gist.

As I picked myself up off the ground, I was halfway tempted to run into Fang's arms and splatter kisses all over his clean face. Our previous kisses replayed in my head, and I knew that he wouldn't mind at all. But there was still the little fact that it'd been my idea to pull down the tower. Plus, the death-defying glare he was pointing at me with was enough to make Chuck Norris shake in his skin.

So I was smart, simply standing up and dusting the dirt and grass off my clothing, trying to recapture the remaining dignity I had left, which wasn't much at all. I started to hiccup from my sudden laughing – which really got on my nerves – and I watched, stunned and partly scared, as Fang advanced on me with the menacing intent of a lion after a zebra.

Freaky.

The whole time Fang was approaching, I kept my eyes locked over his shoulder, watching everyone else as the girls gushed at how close the guys had just came to getting smashed flat like a piece of paper. The girls were all either raving about how awesome that had been or how happy they were that their boy didn't get harmed. I felt a sharp pang of longing, and suddenly wished Dylan were here so I could be hugging him instead of having Fang walking intimidatingly toward me.

Fang stopped in front of me, barely a foot away, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was pissed beyond explanation. "What the hell was that, Max?" he asked me furiously, though it sounded more like an exclamation since his voice was loud and demanding.

I shrugged my shoulders, my eyes boldly meeting his because I wouldn't let him scare me like he was attempting to. "Hey, you could've said no," I responded, crossing my arms across my chest in the international _What The Hell Do You Want? _posture. I was correctly convinced that I was doing a pretty damn good job. "But you didn't."

His dark brown eyes, shadowed by the hat, went impossibly darker with anger and something else I couldn't exactly identify, but it sent racking chills down my spine that was a hassle to ignore. "You didn't way anything either."

Fang's retort made me realize that I hadn't said anything, and I'd known that the length of chain wasn't enough. I should've told him that, but I couldn't, wasn't sure if I wanted to. I was inexplicably ticked about all the girls he'd gotten with before me and the ever—enraging fact that I was probably just a one night stand. Plus, the inexpressibly good moonshine that he'd given me didn't help my mind none.

"What was I supposed to say?" I exploded, throwing my hands up so I wouldn't sock him right in the face with anger. I'd never been this mad at Fang, even when he'd about killed us twice – count it, _two times_! – and I didn't know how to react to the infuriated emotions running rampant through my torso. But then, I hadn't known him for more than four hours, either. "There was no point in me saying anything. It wasn't like you'd have listened to anything I said anyway."

My statement took Fang by surprise at first, but then his anger returned, and I could see the pure malice swimming through his dangerously dark eyes. "I mighta, Max. You don't know."

And that was it. Our fight was over. He pushed me aside – and not roughly, because Fang was still the perfect country boy – and walked around to the driver side door of Ratchet's truck. Which was exactly like Fang's had been, except it was white and not black.

I abruptly felt sorry for what I'd done, because Fang had a lot on his shoulders, and probably couldn't afford to buy another truck thanks to the work that the farm acquired. And I felt terrible, like I'd just ripped a kid's lollipop from his chubby hands and ate it right in front of him. Then I felt the sudden urge to apologize to Fang. Which, let me guarantee you, I _never_ do.

Mentally groaning, I called out, "Fang, I'm sorry." The apology, as it came up my throat, tasted faintly like bile and it was a struggle to force the words from my lips. I hated apologizing – have ever since I was little and had to apologize to Ella for breaking her doll – and avoided it whenever possible. But I couldn't avoid this.

After giving Ari and pleading glance – one asking him telepathically to get me out of here – I spun reluctantly on my heel and marched toward Fang as he was leaning into Ratchet's truck and fiddling around with the console. I could see papers flying and gloves being flung out everywhere, and I wondered what he was looking for that was so important.

Carefully, I tapped his shoulder, half suspecting him to blow up. But he didn't, instead, he was calm and stoic as he turned around and faced me, though you could see it was taking tons of self-control to not explode.

"Max, you're pissin' me off," he replied, his tone taking on an icy tranquilness that scared me even more than him screaming. I mean, scream or yell, do something to get it out. But he was so mad that he couldn't even talk properly. Mad at me. "Now shut the hell up and go start gettin' some stuff outta my truck 'fore I lose it."

I couldn't help what came out of my mouth; it was just instinctual from all the years of being a rebel without a cause and fighting back. It was what came natural to me, but it wasn't the right thing to say at this moment, standing here with this boy.

"Bite me," I said in response, using a term I knew was old but it was what popped up first, probably from using it all those years when I was in grade school. "You're not my freaking boss. You can't order me around like you do everyone else. I'm not them. I don't know who you are yet, and I won't let you push me around just because I don't know what the heck to do."

Fang became angrier and angrier with each word I said, and by the time I was finished I could see the seething vexation that was distorting his gorgeous face. I knew what I'd said was wrong, but I couldn't let him see that I felt remorse about what I'd said to him. Because I didn't. Well, I didn't think I did, at least.

Fang opened his mouth to speak, to tear my head off with words, but then he saw something over my shoulder, and he stopped. His eyes took on a faraway look, widening slightly, and he went back to work digging through the console. Curious, I spun on my heel to see what had made him stop.

Ratchet and the others were openly gaping at us, surprised by our sudden anger toward each other when we'd just been all over each other thirty minutes before. I knew they wanted to leave and let us be, allow us to settle our dispute by ourselves, and I also knew that them leaving would be for the best.

"Fang?" Ratchet called, although it sounded more like a question since his voice was a little clouded with confusion and anxiety. Fang pulled back from the truck and look at him, and Ratchet's eyes widened slightly, as if he were actually afraid of his _younger _brother. Pansy. "We're gonna, uh, head out and let you get your things, okay?"

Fang nodded in response, reaching up and readjusting his hat. "Go ahead, man," he said, and his voice wasn't nearly as icy as it had been when we'd been talking to me. He sounded more careless and easy, even a little relieved, but that old anger still lurked in the darkly shadowed plains of his gorgeous face.

Despairingly, I looked at Ari and tried to catch his eye, begging him to stay with me so I wouldn't be all alone with Fang. He looked down, averting his gaze from mine, and I knew that he had no intention of staying. Jerk. I wished Ella were here again, because she wouldn't leave. Well, she might. It depended on how drunk she was.

Ratchet dug in his back pocket, struggling for a moment before producing a set of shining silver keys and tossing them to Fang. "Here's the keys to the Challenger," he said, and Fang caught the keys with the ease of a person who has been catching things all his life. Yeah, catching _girls. _For some reason, my sarcastic thought ticked me off.

And Fang let them go. Didn't even tell them where to meet us at, didn't even ask for help, didn't even say goodbye. He just watched as they all loaded up in Ratchet's truck, some having to get in the back since there were so many people. But they waved good-naturedly at us as they drove out of the large clearing Fang and I were standing alone in, and I guess that made up for their odd behavior a little bit.

I looked at him expectantly, and he gave me a blank look in return. I could see the water droplets falling off the brim of his hat, the way his shirt and jeans sticked to him like glue. He was soaking wet, and I couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"What?" Fang asked irritatedly, annoyed at my laughing again. I couldn't help it; it was either scream or laugh. Laughing's better.

I shrugged, not wanting to get into a screaming fight with him. "Nothing," I said, turning around and making my way to his smashed truck. Smashed like a pancake... I giggled lightly.

The truck still had water running steadily out of it, escaping from cracks and holes in the exterior. The driver side door was open, so – instead of wrestling to open any other door – I just walked around the truck and stuck my head in on Fang's side. I had to duck and bend down to keep my head from hitting the door frame.

The steering wheel was bent in half, looking like a crescent moon. The seats were fine, but did have several rips and tatters, and even some fluffy, off-white fleece-like stuff hanging out. Over the front seats, I could see broken glass and pieces of wood loitering every inch of the back.

I winced slightly, knowing that this has got to be hard on Fang. I mean, seriously? Totaling out a truck because you were being a dumbass and trying to pull over an old water tower? He'd have fun trying to explain that to the insurance company.

I giggled lightly, arching my body so I could see in the back floor, hoping maybe there was something valuable there. I saw the golden tops of several Mason Jars, screwed on tightly and protecting a clear liquid, and I remembered the moonshine. If I'm gonna save something, might as well save something that could benefit me too.

I had to crawl in the truck so I could lean over and grab the shine, water soaking into my borrowed jeans and making my legs damp, and I had to be careful to avoid all the broken glass and razor-edged wood. I really didn't feel like slicing my knee open and having to go to the hospital with my meat hanging out. Yuck.

My hands found their way into the provided holes which were on the side, and I hefted the wooden crate up, being extra careful not to drop it. I didn't want to show Fang that I couldn't accomplish a simple task.

I scooted myself out, planting my feet firmly on the ground so I wouldn't trip in the mud. I spun around, holding the crate away from me so I wouldn't get, like, a splinter or something, and saw Fang watching me, eyeing the shine. He had his eyebrow quirked up, lounging against the Challenger and twirling the keys in his fingers.

But then, everything went to heck. Why? Because, it turns out, wooden crates aren't as sturdy as they seemed.

The bottom of the crate fell through, releasing all the moonshine bottles to splatter on the ground, soaking my boots with the clear liquid. Glass exploded everywhere, shards flying as far as ten feet away.

Pissed the heck off, I simply relinquished the crate from my grip, watching thoughtlessly as the wood splintered and flew off in every which direction. Oh well, it wasn't my problem any more. But then I felt a pang of remorse. That crap was freaking amazing! Why had I let it all fall? 'Cause I'm a dumbass, that's why.

Visibly fuming, I raised my eyes up to Fang, wanting to see his face and find out what he thought about this little incident. I didn't exactly mean to cause all the jars to break; it just friggin' happened. My karma was really beginning to get the best of me.

Fang just smirked halfheartedly, throwing the keys up and catching them. "You're gonna have to explain to my old man why all those bottles are broke," he said to me, opening the door as I approached, kicking glass and debris from my boots.

I gave him a sour look, like I'd just taken a bite out of a lemon. "Sure, fine by me," I replied, letting the sarcasm drip from my tongue and splash onto the ground in a paddle. "As long as you explain to him why the hell your trucks squashed like a pancake."

Fang looked at me, a glint lighting his ominous eyes as he motioned for me to get in the Challenger. "I need a drink bad."

**PAGE BREAK! 'A FULL MOON SHINING BRIGHT, EDGE OF THE WATER WE WERE FEELING ALRIGHT' DOES ANYONE KNOW THAT SONG BESIDES ME?**

Turns out, there's actually a quaint little bar in Monroe, right next to a rock yard – which was this huge yard full of rocks that people picked up and palletized for a few extra dollars. Yeah, I know. That crap – picking up rocks – sounded as if they were being _tortured. _But hey, some people gotta work, right?

The bar was called the Cannery, and it had a large faded yellow cannery painted onto the side of the building. It wasn't very big – smaller than the Longbranch – but I could see that it had a room that jutted out of the back. Instead of being painted, it was just simple wood, cut into logs like cabins, and the roof was made of metal tin, painted a deep forest green from what it looked like.

Hmm, I actually liked this little bar better than the Longbranch.

We got out of the Challenger, our boots squishing in the damp mud as our booted foot pounded against the ground. There were several other vehicles, ranging from Ford Mustangs to Toyota Tundras (by the way, them are some ugly-ass trucks. Look 'em up on Google if you don't believe me).

I stood straight and tall, shutting my door with a slam. The wind had picked up a little, and now it was blowing wavy tresses of hair in and around my face. Agitatedly, I swiped the hairs away and huffed an exasperated breath. I really needed a drink, too, even though I was already buzzed thanks to the moonshine. Gotta love it, right?

I turned around, resting my elbows on the hood of Fang's car, and watched as he dug around in the backseat for something. From the glow of the bar, I could see that he was aiming for a black T-shirt similar to the one he had on. It was buried under several pairs of gloves and even a ripped pair of jeans.

Fang finally grabbed the shirt, leaned back up, and shut the door, flashing me a toothy grin that was highlighted by the moon and neon lights coming from the bar. I just rolled my eyes and followed him to the door, descending the stairs behind him. And then he opened the door.

The Cannery wasn't as crowded as the Longbranch, but that didn't mean it wasn't freakin' packed. At least I could actually walk in this place without bumping into people every five seconds. I liked being an optimist.

On the inside, the bar looked just like a log cabin: there was a large, long, wooden bar that was in the center and wrapped all the way around in a wind, arcing circle. Barstools were lining the sides of the bar, most occupied by a drunk dude hitting on this totally conceited chick or a lonely man looking for someone to spend the night with.

Everything was bathed in this luminescent red glow, and I looked up at the rafters where I saw that the lights had a crimson tint to the bulbs. Hmm, I liked that. You could see perfectly, but everything had this crazily, eerie reddish-shadow. It was pretty badass.

Fang grabbed my hand just as I started toward the bar, pulling me to the side and moving me toward this corridor at the back of the bar. I looked up at him in question, wondering what the heck he was doing. He smirked at my look.

"I gotta change," he whispered into my ear, having to almost scream because the music was so loud. It sounded like a Brantley Gilbert song, like 'Country Must Be Country Wide' or something like that. This new dude seemed to be popping up everywhere lately. "You don't want all these people starin' at me when I change my shirt, do you?"

I looked up at him, annoyed, and I saw the smirk on his full lips, only growing wider as we walked toward the hallway. His eyes – those dark, beautiful, engaging eyes – were reflecting the red light, bouncing the rays back into mine. Mysteriously sexy, but it heightened my need for him nevertheless.

I didn't bother answering him – that it _would_ bother me. I supposed that it was good just to make him doubt my growing feelings for him a little. That's what any smitten girl would do, is what my granny would say.

The corridor leading to the bathroom wasn't nearly as long as the one at the Longbranch, and I found myself taking in every detail as Fang led me down the hallway. The walls had a wood-like wallpaper, and there was a dark brown trim at the bottom so it wouldn't clash with the multi-colored brown wall. At the end, there was what looked like a doorway to another room, and from where I was walking at an angle, I could see a plush red couch in the corner and the bathroom door at the far right corner.

I had to force my eyes to adjust to the different lighting in the room as we entered, and Fang pulled me on through and into the bathroom. He kicked open the door since it was cracked, and I almost fell down from what I saw, my cheeks burning bright red and my body chilling.

On the floor laid a couple who barely had any clothes on and were kissing madly. The girl – who had long, waving blonde hair and tanned skin – had her shirt completely off and her jeans pulled down around her ankles. The dude, whose hair was light brown and skin fairly light, had his shirt and pants off. They looked up at us horrifiedly, as if they'd just been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. Which, in a sense, they had been.

Fang whistled, seemingly unfazed by the scene before us, and pointed over his left shoulder. "Yo, out. Go do that somewhere else," he ordered, and the two jumped up as if someone had fired a starting gun and launched themselves out of the door, pushing passed me as they scrambled to get their clothes.

I watched, amused, as they ran down the hall, making out and attempting to yank their clothes on. Yeah, pretty funny crap.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Fang hollered after them.

Shrugging off my mental insanity, I looked back up at Fang, taking in his laughing smile and twinkling dark eyes. I had to keep myself from drooling in front of him, which really wouldn't have helped my chances with him.

"You have quite an impression on people, you know?" I mused as he pulled me the rest of the way in the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. He just looked blankly down at me from where he was standing next to the sink, and shrugged.

"I try," was his only response.

I sighed, turning my back to him and facing the toilet so I wouldn't be tortured with watching him change and knowing that I couldn't touch him. At least, not the way I wanted. Those irresistible, rippling muscles hidden beneath those tight shirts he wore was enough to make me go psychotic just thinking about them. I shivered at the thought of watching him get out of the water at Cowskin,

By the time I was finished reminiscing, Fang had completed his task of changing, and now had his large, lean hand on my shoulder, pulling me back around so I could face him. The sopping wet shirt, I noticed, was thrown in the sink carelessly, probably staying there till someone cared enough to come in and take it out.

"You know, you've gotta pretty face," Fang announced abruptly, and I looked up at him, disbelief rattling my features. He just smiled at my incredulous expression. "Don't let anyone tell you different, 'cause they're either dumbasses or just jealous. Dylan's lucky to have a girl like you."

The words that left my mouth next escaped before I had a chance to give any thought at all to them. But hey, that's life.

"I'm your girl right now," was my retort, and I knew it shocked Fang just as much as me.

Fang's lips smashed hungrily against mine, forlornly wanting to get as close as possible as he reached around and hugged me to his chest. I was caught by surprise, tensing slightly, but I immediately softened and melted against him, raising my hands and entangling them in his silky hair, knocking his tattered hat to the floor.

He spun me around swiftly, leaning back against the wall for a millisecond before pushing off and backing me toward the sink. He grinned seductively against my lips, making me dizzy with heat and wanting, and picked me up, setting me on the elevated counter so we had better access to each other's lips.

His tongue slipped through my parted lips, sliding against my own and ravishing my mouth with such delicacy and gentleness that my legs opened wide and he stepped into the cradle of my hips. Moaning in undeniable pleasure, I wrapped my arms around his neck and legs around his waist, pulling him ridiculously closer.

Fang disentangled our moistly connected lips, instantly bending down and finding my neck. He suckled considerately and bit gently, nipping at my neck and allowing his tongue to escape and lick a fiery trail from the base of my throat to the tip of my ear.

I trembled uncontrollably, racking shivers assaulting my body, and I dug my nails in Fang's shoulder as he continued the amazing practices on my neck.

The feeling washing over me was unlike any other. I couldn't exactly explain it; it was so advanced and alien that it's hard to put in words. A blazing, roaring fire was being created in the pit of my abdomen, generating from the smoldering embers that had been left behind from Old Man Reed's place. It felt nice – amazing, actually – to be reacquainted with that flame.

"Lift up," he whispered huskily in my ear, his hands creeping down the backside of my legs and coming to rest just on the tip of my waist. I elevated myself slightly, permitting Fang enough room to slink his hands under and cup my butt, hefting me from the sink and carrying me out the door.

I was startled at first, squeezing Fang tighter than I should have and wrapping my legs more securely around him, but the butterfly-soft kisses he was trailing from my ear to the base of my throat helped me calm down somewhat. Before too long, Fang was laying me down on the upholstered couch, positioning me to where I was leaning up slightly and looking directly into his eyes.

I could see the wanting and desperate passion swimming in his eyes, but I also saw the hint of pride and dignity and courtesy resting in the shadowed places. He didn't want to force me to do something that I wasn't willing to do, like taking our new relationship to the next step. But, the thing was, I was _willing_. More than he'll ever know.

"Yes," I croaked hoarsely, opening my arms to him as he came down on me with such tender moves, barely letting his body graze against mine. The tugging it was making in my stomach escalated till it was somewhat painful, and I tugged at his shirt to make him understand that I didn't want him to be gentle. I didn't want him to hold back.

I wanted all of him, everything he had to offer at this very moment. His heart, his soul (his car, but that was probably too much to ask for, right?) – everything.

Fang laid his lips against mine softly, as if testing the coldness of a chilled pond, and then, after finding it was perfectly warm, rammed into me with such force that I was pushed up on the couch into a half-assed sitting stance.

Just then, an image of those two people in the bathroom flashed across my mind. We were just like them – but they had the decency to actually take it behind closed doors, whereas whoever needed to take a leak would see us. I should've been embarrassed, but I Fang was clouding my mind to much for me to really give a shit about anything.

My body was still on fire from where he'd kissed me, and I didn't want to be outdone by Fang in the art of pleasing your partner, and so I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth, squishing it between my teeth and tasting with my damp tongue. Fang, by his actions and reactions, apparently loved what I was doing, because he thrusted his body demandingly against mine and he moaned softly, the voice sounding totally uncanny and foreign coming from him.

I giggled softly, releasing his lips and pulled back, bashfully glancing up at him. He was gazing down at me, his eyes heavy-lidded from the passion and pleasure, and a sloppy, lightheaded smirk crossed his dubious lips, making me yearn for them even more.

His hands, which had been resting above my head on the back of the couch, floated down, grazing the side of my face and trailing down my throat, making me angle my head so he could have better access. Then his fingertips found where my shirt dipped down a little, revealing my collarbone, and he twirled his fingers lightly across my bare skin, making a moan escape my lips.

He grinned down at me. "You like that, don't you?" he asked me quietly, bending down and connecting our lips again in a kind kiss. He swept his fingers right down my torso, right in between my breasts, and I arched against him at the sudden, insistent satisfaction washing through my body.

God, I _loved _this. I wanted to do this all the damn time.

"Yes," I uttered again, sighing when his hand slipped underneath my shirt at the hem, his fingers tinkling upward and making me shiver slightly. But, just as his fingers were tracing the underside of my bra, making me delirious with wanting and lust, it was all over.

My one intense, passionate moment with Fang was broken up because of a shrill, frightened and pissed off voice evaded my hearing. And I knew that voice, and I had to get to it before anyone else did.

"Get _off _me, you scumbag! This shirt is freakin' designer!"

_I knew that voice..._

Abruptly, I pushed against Fang, sending him flying off and sprawling out on the floor, his breathing ragged and deep, and I jumped up, hopping over him and racing down the hall. Something was grabbing at my heart and forcing me to run down the hall. That voice, loud and screeching, with a slight slang to it was almost as familiar to me as my own.

It sounded like – like _Ella. _What the hell was she doing here?

Although, I couldn't be sure if it was actually her or not till I rounded the corner and was granted complete view of the bar. Surely there were other girls around here with the same, if not similar, voice as my younger sister. But, just to be on the safe side, I should check it out.

I emerged from the hallway, jogging to where everyone was crowding around by the door. Several people – that completely drunk and dumb ones – were yelling some very perverted and obscene things that I really don't feel like repeating, but they pissed me off nonetheless.

Pushing through the crowd and forcing the people out of my way, I came to a tiny clearing in the wave of people and looked down. My sister – only a year younger than me at seventeen – was sitting on the floor with her long black hair frizzed out and sporting a scared look on her face. I could see a trail of tears making their way down her cheek, right where a bright red mark was glowing on her pale cheek.

Wait, did someone freaking hit her? Anger washed over my mind and limbs, making me see red. I swear to God and on my mother's grave, if she was even friggin' touched or looked at the wrong way, I was going to kill whoever done it to her. I would dig the own grave myself, throw his sorry, pathetic ass in –

"Max?" Ella asked through her tears, looking up at me. She took in my rumpled shirt and messed up hair, my pouting and swollen lips and the hickeys I was displaying openly on my neck, and gave me a quizzical. "Max, is that you?"

Before I had time to answer, a dude with chestnut hair and hazel eyes pushed through the crowd and grabbed Ella, yanking her up forcefully. I knew this dude. _Sam Waylons. _

"This your sister, pretty girl?" he asked me sourly, gripping Ella's forearm way too tight for my liking. Anger soared through me, and I was prepared to take him out by myself, but I didn't have to. Because I had Fang with me.

"Let her go."

**DUN DUN DUN! LOL **

**Did you like it? I liked it! ;}**

**Okay, so it took me a while to update... sorry but I had to haul hay all freaking day Sunday and the baler wouldn't quit breaking so it took us like 5 hours to fix that thing... But hey, at least you got it right? And it's LONG – ish. Not nearly as much as that other chapter – I forgot which one but you know what I'm talking about. Oh, and if you're offended by the fact that Ella got slapped – well... don't even review then. I thought it was a good idea. **

**Oh, and I wrote this short story for the HUNGER GAMES in Prim's POV after she dies, and my teacher (the one who FORCED me to read the books, though I love them) and I are thinking about sending it into Suzanne Collins or something... Isn't that great?**

**Anywho, review if you liked it... Don't if you didn't. :)**

**~ SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	15. Chapter 15

"_**Hey, hey, hey! Part like the Red Seas; it's me, Shizzy McCreepy and my brother, S.T. Macrozly. We are in the house, and ready to part-ay!"**_

**Sorry about that lol. Have I ever told any of y'all how much I dig Scooby-Doo? Really, no? Well, I think that little line above this one tells ya all ya need to know! ;) Oh, and how do you like my FAST UPDATE? Beast, huh?**

**Has anyone besides me heard that song 'God Gave Me You' by Blake Shelton? I am freaking in love with that song! And have you heard that song 'Best of Me' by Brantley Gilbert? Love it too, even wrote a Hunger Games songfic over it. Y'all should check it out. The sequel to it is Sober Me Up, which is a song by Frankie Ballard. I love my country...! =) HOI**

**This, my faithful readers, is probably my favorite chapter to write – and to read! It's the major turning point in the story. You'll see why when you read it... And I think you'll like it too. ;)**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by** SOONERMAGIC **

I whirled around at the sound of Fang's ominous tone, so different from the seductive and gentle voice I heard only moments before. The congested crowd surrounding me – causing me to have a serious case of claustrophobia – parted like the Red Seas and allowed Fang to walk up right beside me. He looked pissed off and ready to murder someone, fist clenching and unclenching in tight balls and body tensing as if it were fifty below and he were in nothing other than boxers.

I would've laughed at that thought if this wouldn't have been such a humorless situation. I made a mental note to do it later.

My eyes were wide and my cheeks flushed as I gazed up at him, an image of the intimate make-out scene we'd just been a part of. I could still feel his fingers as they raked over my bare stomach, slinking up and running along the trim of my bra. I shivered violently.

But I couldn't think about that right now; I had no time. Right now, I had to take care of my little sister and stop Fang from possibly killing Sam. Or vice versa.

"This that chicks sister?" Sam demanded of Fang since I had no intention of answering his formidable question. His voice sounded muffled from the large splint he was wearing across his nose, pushing the cartilage back into the correct position so it would heal properly. I smirked evilly, because it'd been me who broke his nose.

Fang seemingly had no desire to answer the interrogation, crossing his arms stubbornly and stepping closer to me. To protect me or just make sure I didn't let my anger get the best of me and go on a rampage, I'm not sure, but it felt nice, comforting to have him there.

"Whatever," he muttered, not really caring what we thought or said. _Well, glad to know you appreciate our opinions, dumbass! _He looked down at Ella, still straining to get loose, and grinned pervertedly. Just like he'd done with me. "I don't care whose sister you are. Right now, for the night, you're gonna be _mine._"

Ella flinched, terrified, at this words, and looked at me pleadingly, begging me to get her loose from this wacko country boy. And that I would do, with pleasure.

"Dude, let her go," I ground out between my clenched teeth, having to bite my tongue to keep from allowing any vile words from passing my lips. There was no telling what he'd do to Ella if he was pissed. "She's seventeen. You're, like, eighty. Can we call you a pedophile?"

I knew my words enraged him, but – to put it in a way that was easier to understand than a long, drawn-out sentence – I simply did not give shit. That was my sister he had his filthy hands on, and I would kill him dead if he freaking hurt her. She was one of the few people in the world I trust completely and love with my whole heart. I'd never let anything happen to her.

Sam smirked at me, being sure to take in my rumpled clothing, pouty lips, tousled hair, and blushing cheeks. Weirdo. "And what're you gonna do about it, missy?" he demanded of me, and I honestly almost punched him. But Fang stopped me before I could break his nose even more.

"We're all here for a good time. Don't start no trouble, 'cause it won't be the first time I put a scare on my knuckles," Fang said, holding his hands up to let Sam know that he wasn't looking for a fight.

But Sam wouldn't take no for an answer, and so he roughly tapped Fang on the shoulder, making Fang have to step back to keep his balance. In an attempt to calm himself down, Fang breathed in deeply and let it out loudly.

"Now, brother, I don't mind. I'd be glad to stomp your ass," Fang continued menacingly, his dark eyes glowing from the red light, making him look horrifying and brutal. "But if both of us walk out that door, one of us ain't comin' back."

I was scared by Fang's words; terrified that'd he'd do something that would get him in trouble, or – worse – hurt. I knew he was tough, I knew he was skilled in the art of fighting, but I couldn't help but worry about him. Maybe these newfound emotions running madly through my body were causing me to be fearful for him, but I couldn't deny them.

And Sam was stupid to not be intimidated or even a little taken aback by Fang's ruthless words. He was either really freakin' brave, or really freakin' drunk. I'd bet on Fang in either situation, though.

Sam pushed Fang's shoulder again, this time showing the other one. Fang breathed deeply again, but I could tell it wasn't going to work this time. "You're full of shit," Sam said, and that was the wrong thing to say to Fang when he was pissed off.

Fang brought his arms down from the international 'I Surrender' sign, and starting cracking his knuckles thunderously, a frighteningly bloodthirsty smirk spreading across his lips, still swollen and pouty from my kisses.

"Let's have some respect. Got girls in here," he said, pushing me behind him as he started forward, directly at a grinning Sam. I wouldn't take this; I wouldn't let him fight Sam over something he'd done to _my _little sister. I had to help him, do anything I possibly could.

But when I started after him, Ella fearfully grabbed a hold of my right forearm and jerked me back, keeping me from following Fang into a battle. The look she gave me, one replenished with a newfound terror and worry, and I decided that she needed me more than Fang. He could take care of himself.

"Just pay your tab and lay down your beer, hoss, and let's take it outside," Fang suggested, motioning for Sam to set his BudLight down.

But Sam didn't obey Fang. Instead, acting in impulse and liquor, he dropped the bottle and barreled into Fang's chest, knocking his breath away from the force of the impact. He caught Fang off guard, and he wrapped his arms around Sam's torso as he was pushed swiftly backward into a wall, unintentionally pounding through people and causing them to crash onto the wooden floor painfully.

Sam leaned up and reared back, letting his fist fly right into Fang's bottom lip, immediately resulting in blood gushing from his split lip. Fang, after regaining his bearings quickly, tried to shove Sam off, pushing at his shoulders and pivoting his body. But to no avail. So instead, he grabbed Sam around the waist again and brought his knee up, ramming in into Sam's stomach hard a few times. _That_ made Sam let go.

Sam fell to the ground, wheezing uncontrollably, trying to take in as much air as possible as he swiped at the tears misting in his eyes. Fang grabbed Sam's ample amount of chestnut hair and jerked him up, marching toward the opened door and pulling Sam's irresistible body with him.

Fang came to the large opening and threw Sam out by the hair of his head, hurling him down the stairs and sprawling him out on the soggy ground. From where I was at an angle, I could see a ferocious glint blazing in his eyes and a homicidal smirk filtering across his bleeding and swollen mouth.

And then he stepped out, heading into a fight with the biggest asshole I've ever met.

I was shocked, my eyes fighting to take in all the blurry actions, looking more like superimposed images than anything. All that happened in about ten seconds, and it took me a few moments to take it all in. I instantly started out the door, following Fang and Sam, my own annoyance making its appearance in my body movements as I jogged toward the door.

But I never made it out. Because some chick jumped on my back and wrapped her arms around my neck, squeezing hazardously as she screamed in my ear.

Shocked, I tried to breath, waving my hands and clawing at her bare legs in an attempt to force her to let me go. Her weight on my back was making me stumble backward, my disturbed feet losing their traction on the spilt beer and sliding out from underneath me.

I fell hard, my legs flying up into the air, but the girl who'd attacked broke my fall, and before I could be assaulted again, I jumped up and pivoted on my left heel – a left reverse pivot, because I'm a genius at basketball – and immediately got into a fighting stance. And then I looked down at the chick that freakin' assailed me.

She was shorter than me – barely five feet, it seemed – and her hair was reddish, kinda like a rusty-color. Her eyes were open to slits, and I saw that they were a dull blue-green. She was wearing a jean mini-skirt, tight tube-top, and short leather jacket. A familiarity came rushing at me, and I realized that I'd seen her before. But where?

"Who are you?" I asked her, relaxing my stance when I saw that she wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

She glared up at me, pushing herself on her elbows and wiping spit from her lip. "Lissa," she answered me in a sickly sweet voice, high-pitched and shrill. I cringed at the noise. "And you're 'bout to be roadkill."

Abruptly, she shot up and tackled me, catching me completely off guard and making me fall back against the bar, my back connecting with the stools. I winced as the wood slammed into my backbone, my hands tugging at her to let go of me. But it didn't work.

"Get _off _me!" I yelled, shoving powerfully, wanting to get her sluttish body off me before I caught, like, a disease or something. I was angry; not about being attacked – though I was pissed about that too – but about being caught off guard and allowing her to take advantage of me. That's what really ate at me.

I grabbed her by the hair, yanking her willingly away from my body and slinging her down, watching her fall to the ground again. She landed awkwardly, her legs flying up and showing her hot pink panties. Uh, yuck? Pull your britches down, retard! No one wants to be you to flash them your ta-ta. That's freaking nasty!

I was breathing heavily as I removed myself from the barstool, rubbing my back where the edge had dug into my skin, and walked slowly around Lissa, still sprawled out on the floor. I was taking her in, memorizing how she moved and the way her feet told me what she was about to do. I learned that from basketball too – you're defender will tell you what to do with their movements.

But she shot up and tackled me again, and the only thought racing through my brain at that moment, besides me wanting to kick her ass, was, _This crap was really getting old. _

At least I didn't bang my head on anything, but my knee did hit the leg of a stool. I groaned, Lissa's entire weight crashing down on my chest, and I wasn't prepared to defend myself when she pulled back and slapped me. Her long nails – feeling more like freaking _claws_ – dug into the side of my cheek, by my ear, and I winced as I felt blood start to trickle out of the cut.

"That's right, Lissa!" a chick yelled from the crowd, and I so totally wished I had, like, six arms so I could take on more people. "Kick 'er ass!"

"Go to hell!" Ella, my sweet, sweet little sister, yelled, and I knew she threw herself at whoever was cheering Lissa on by the loud crash of people falling to the floor and screams. Oh dear, I really needed to be a better model for Ella. I didn't need her to get into a fight down here, because I'd be the one that had to explain to Mom and Dad why she was injured. F that.

"Off," I muttered, squishing my hands in between us and shoving Lissa off. She fell to the side, and I jumped up, anger and vexation and humiliation fueling my brain, and I jerked her up by her hair again. By the time I got done with her she wasn't going to have any hair left.

"Keep your claws to yourself," I drawled murderously, punching her for payback of the scratch she gave me. Her head turned sideways, and I threw her down again, this time aiming her at a table. She landed on it, and it collapsed with her sudden weight, boards and pieces flying everywhere. I couldn't hold in a laugh.

She glared up at me, and I just smirked down at her. "You're an ass, you know that?" she said, wiping tears from her eyes and smearing her makeup. She had a gash on her left leg, but I didn't care. She'd be fine. But I had to get to Fang before he seriously injured Sam.

"You don't like me?" I screamingly demanded of her, pointing an index finger right at her nose, my finger so erect that it was starting to cramp. "Stand in line with all the other bitches waiting who are on me to give a shit!"

And with that said, I spun on my booted heel, grabbed Ella by the hand and tugged her off this blonde girl, and strode out the door purposely, leaving behind people as they started to either laugh at what a fool Lissa made of herself, or angry at me for embarrassing her.

Whatever. That line I'd screamed wasn't just meant for Lissa's ears; it wasn't meant for the whole damn world.

When Ella and I were out the bar and walking on the sluggish ground, we had to hunt for Fang and Sam. We found them behind several vehicles, being forcefully restrained by a couple policemen. Sam was already in the back of a cruiser, cursing and fighting like hell to get out, his face bloody and shirt ripped.

But Fang was still being violently controlled by a cop with black hair, being pushed onto the hood. He was fighting and straining, allowing a few colorful words to pass his lips, but he wasn't getting no where.

I knew the cop who was before he turned around. It was Johnny Hawthorne, Fang's older brother. Two brothers on the opposite sides of the law. That was terrible – it was like a civil war, pitting friends against friends. Brothers against brothers.

I knew what I had to do before the plan even began to take shape in my mind. I ran at Johnny and jumped on his back, just as Lissa had done me. I wrapped my arms and leg securely around his waist and started pummeling his back. For extra measure, I screamed in his ear, too, telling him to let Fang go.

And he did, because I could scream pretty loud when I wanted to.

Johnny reached around himself, trying to scratch at my legs and compel me to let him go, to jump off and just allow Fang to go peacefully. But I wasn't a peaceful girl, and Johnny was having to learn that fact that hard way.

Fang jerked free of Johnny's grasp, but not before punching his brother in the face, aiming at the nose but missing and hitting the jaw. Either way, it had to hurt like hell. He took off, then remembered me, and ran back. He grabbed me around my waist, his fingers sending pleasing shivers throughout my body, and yanked me off Johnny's back before grasping my hand and tugging me after him.

I hadn't even been aware that I was laughing till I heard Ella and Fang join in with me as we neared the car, the fact that all three of us had just gotten into simultaneous fights and won. Fang jerked open the door and pushing Ella in, boosting her over the backseat as I climbed in the passenger side, wiping tears from my eyes.

Fang, his loud guffaws mollifying into gentle laughs, turned the car on and tore out of the parking lot, hoping to get a head start before the cops started after us. I turned around and grinned at Ella, taking in her rumpled hair and torn clothing, and I couldn't help but give her a thumbs-up because she'd just kick some chicks ass.

"Max," she began, having to stop and catch her breath before she continued. I watched out the window as Fang sped down the highway, black and red twirling lights heading right after us. "I don't know if this guy is your new man, but I freakin' like him so much better than that pansy Dylan!"

Fang and I looked at each other, our faces illuminated by the shining bright lights, which were actually catching up, and we smiled warmly, knowing that what Ella had said was true. I did like Fang better than Dylan; there was no doubt in my mind that I did. I reached over, offering him my hand, and he took it, pulling our intertwined fingers to rest on his leg as he flicked the lights off.

The lights continued to get closer as we drove in the car, the only sound the noise of the blaring radio, and I felt a little flutter in my stomach. I should be scared that I'd just assaulted an officer and possibly injured him with my loud screaming. I should be sweating the fact that they'd probably contact my parents in Oklahoma City, and they'd come down here, pissed off as all get out, and murder me. I should be ashamed for what I'd done to Lissa and to that cop.

But I wasn't scared; I wasn't ashamed; I wasn't worried. Not really. I had Fang and my sister with me, and I would get through it with them.

Suddenly, Fang jerked the wheel to the left, entering a cornfield and plowing through it. I screamed loudly, shocked that he'd just drove off the damn road, bracing my legs agains the dash as Fang punched the gas, laughing at my obvious distress. Fear ran through my body, and I tried to calm my breathing. I was hoping and praying like hell that Fang didn't wreck in this maze of corn.

"Oh my gosh!" Ella hollered shrilly from the backseat, hiding her face in her hands as angry and scared tears coursed down her cheeks. I knew Ella; she wasn't as tough as me when it came to dealing with hard things. Now, get her on the soccer field with her buds, and she would whip your ass. Gotta love my sis. "What the hell are you doing? Stop this thing!"

She was scared; I knew, because I was too. But on the bright side: We'd lost the cops.

I swiveled in the seat, scrunching my eyes as I strived to catch a glimpse of the two cop cars. I saw bright lights, red and blue, fly pass where we entered the cornfield, and I knew that we'd escaped them. That they wouldn't be able to find us in this cornfield unless they had a tracker-chip planted in this car or something.

I seriously hoped not, because that would suck ass.

We tore through the field, taking out stalks like Blake Griffin dunking, and all the while my fear started to subside. I could see the corn now that my eyes had adjusted to the faint light of the moon, and giggles were escaping my lips.

Maybe it was the releasing of built-up anger. Maybe it was the fact that Ella was her. Maybe it was because Fang, Ella, and I had all three won the fights we'd been drug in to. Maybe it was that we'd escaped the cops. Whatever it was, it felt nice. Like a heavy weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could breath.

I scooted over, plastering myself against Fang's side. He looked at me, smiling sweetly, and I pecked him on the lips right in front of Ella. I didn't care; I was tired of hiding my attraction to Fang. There was no point, anyway. Dylan would know before the night ended.

The coppery taste of blood from his split lip filled my mouth, but I didn't make no move to pull away and wipe at the goriness. I just toughed it out and went with the flow. _Go with the flow, Max. You might have to swallow some blood, but isn't it worth it? _Oh God, was it.

But before Fang or I could deepen our amazingly sweet kiss, Ella screamed something that I don't ever want to hear while outrunning police.

"Stop this thing! I am about to barf my guts up!"

**PAGE BREAK! WOW I ACTUALLY HAVE A LOT OF THESE! HOI! OH WELL, GET OVER IT!**

So now, after kicking Sam and Lissa's asses and being chased by the cops, tearing through a corn field in our desperate attempt to escape the high-pos, we were now patiently awaiting Ella to hurry up with barfing her guts up already. Seriously, I knew your small intestine was, like, twenty-something feet long, but does it honestly take forever to vomit up?

That image I'd created filtered through my brain, and I gagged a little, hiding my face from Fang's view. That was really disgusting; even nastier than that dead cat that had died under our house and our dog Total drug into my room. Nasty-ass crap, is what it was.

Fang was standing in front of me, leaning forward and resting his palms on the hood of the Challenger, ensnaring me in a small prison against his chest and car. I wasn't even positive if I wanted to escape from this dreamy trap I was captured in.

I heard Ella as she retched over to the left behind a tree; I wouldn't permit her to vomit anywhere near me, because I had a weak stomach when it came to puke. Just thinking about it gave me the heebie-jeebies, and I shuddered vaguely.

Fang's expert eyes caught the slight movement in my body, and he leaned into me closely, making our lower bodies adjacent. "You cold? I got a hoodie in the back," he announced, making a move to pull away and get the jacket, but I wrapped my arms around his waist and stopped him before he could.

I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder as I snuggled closer. "You know, your hand is so gonna hurt tomorrow, right?" I asked, breathing in his natural scent of Axe and leather – a weird combination, but it was rapidly beginning to be one of my favorites.

Fang's body heat was radiating through his tight black shirt and sinking into my chilled skin, warming me to my core. This boy could make a freakin' glacier melt if he wanted to. He was like my own personal fireplace. Hmm, I liked that...

He shrugged halfheartedly, as mush as he could while he was encased in my arms. "I've had worse," he replied, laying his chin on top of my head, and I knew he was telling the truth. Fang wasn't someone who would lie. "When we get to my place, I'm gonna check out that cut. How'd it happen anyway?"

He grasped my chin softly and turned my head to the right, so he could have a better look at it. It'd stopped bleeding almost immediately, and now it just barely stung a little, but it mostly itched. Which was good, I guess.

I shrugged indifferently, gazing into his eyes. "This Lissa chick attacked me, and I kicked her ass."

Fang seemed surprised and – well, downright shocked. "No freakin' way!" he exclaimed, pulling back to look at me better, and he grinned at me when he figured out that I was telling the truth. "You keep on surprisin' me every minute, Max."

I smiled alluringly up at him, grasping his collar and pulling him low, close to my lips. "I like surprising you," I whispered, my breath fanning his parted lips. I didn't know what had made me say that, but I know it was true. Completely and utterly true.

Fang groaned softly and smirked back. "I like it when you surprise me," he said, grabbing me leg and pulling it around his waist. I elevated myself slightly, standing on my tip-toes, and nuzzled his neck as he planted soft kisses on my head.

This was good – it felt right, letting Fang do this to me. It was as if Fang had been made just to smother me in heat and create a fire raging in my chest, and I had been created to grant him surprises everyday of his life. Like we were soul mates. I grinned at the thought, pulling back and leaning upward, hungry for his lips.

But before I could kiss him, Ella interrupted us, to my extreme displeasure. "Yo, got get a room. I don't feel like watching you two have eye-sex with each other. That's messed up."

Thank you, Queen Ella, for your wonderful insight. Tell me this, did I ask for your opinion? No? Then don't freaking give it!

**PAGE BREAK – WOW THERE'S A LOT OF THESE IN THIS CHAPTER! I WONDER IF THERE'S A RECORD, YA KNOW? I BET I'D BEAT IT!**

The ride back to Fang's house was uneventful. Ella had – thankfully! – fallen asleep in the back, and I had my head laying on Fang's shoulder as he drove down this driveway. There were still tons of cars and people standing around, but most had gone in since it'd gotten chilly on this October evening.

We pulled up, Fang parking behind the house by the backdoor, and I leaned over the backseat to gently nudge Ella awake. She opened an eye groggily, glaring up at me accusingly, and I told her that we were here. She yawned, and Fang had to help her out of the Challenger because she was still half asleep.

He was perfect for me. That realization washed over me like a hot shower on a cold winter night, and I let it loll around in my mind for a moment before I had to tell Fang my plans.

"You two go on inside," I said, motioning for them to descend that stairs. "I've gotta find Dylan." Fang gave me an odd look, one that told me he didn't want me around my boyfriend after what we'd almost done together, but I think the emotions in my eyes told him what I was doing.

I was going to break up with Dylan so I didn't have to hide with Fang. It was really hard work, keeping a secret that you so desperately wanted to tell everyone who was making goggling eyes at your man. But I wasn't exactly sure if Fang and I were a couple; sure, we'd kissed and he'd halfway felt me up, but did that really insinuate a relationship?

By the time I'd finished my wondering thoughts, Dylan's truck came into view. I walked around the driver side, seeing that the door was slightly ajar. I wondered what he was doing, cocking my head to the side curiously in an attempt to catch a fleeting glimpse. I saw him laying down in the backseat, and reasoned that he was probably looking for his wallet. He seemed to be losing that a lot these days.

I grabbed the chrome handle and pulled, yanking the door open with enough strength that it went flying and bounced back, threatening to hit me before I caught it with my hand. What I saw in the backseat of Dylan's truck was something I'd expected to see all night, and so it didn't really surprise me all that much. But it did tick me off, more than I care to explain.

Dylan was lying on top of Maya, her shirt halfway pulled up, revealing her stomach and the undersides of her lavender bra. Dylan's hands were racking across her ribs, and his fingertips were just barely grazing the wiring. Maya had her legs pulled up so Dylan could lie in a more comfortable position on top of her, and Dylan's shirt was completely off – laying somewhere in the floorboard – and his jeans were unzipped, but nothing was hanging out. Thankfully.

I can't exactly express what I was feeling at that moment. Anger, for sure, because I'd just caught my _boyfriend _cheating on me with the girl I despised, and slight shock since they were getting it on in his truck. I mean, seriously, his _truck_? How did you have sex in a vehicle when I could barely changed clothes in one? Explain that to me, Einstein!

"Go to hell, Dylan," I said simply, acidly, not letting my dripping anger explode inside me. I knew that if I didn't go right now, I'd strangle Dylan within an inch of his life. And so I spun on my right heel – a right reverse pivot – and stormed off, walking toward the main door.

I heard Dylan struggle to follow me, yanking his jeans up and hollering my name, but I paid no mind to him. I pretended that he wasn't even there, that he hadn't even been my boyfriend, that he wasn't the reason why I had a great guy like Fang who wanted me as much as I wanted him.

My anger was filling my ears with cotton, making it to where I only heard what I needed to hear, what I wanted to hear. I blocked out everything – Dylan's yells, people's voices, various sounds – and instead concentrated on the feel of Fang's lips on mine. That thought calmed me a bit.

Humiliation was flaring through my body, alighting my face with embarrassment. I knew what it was like to be cheated on – it'd happened to me before, with this boy I thought I loved. And it hurts so terribly bad. It made you want to curl up into a ball and cry for the rest of your life. But I couldn't do that now, not yet. I needed to recompense Dylan for what he'd done to me.

I stormed through the house, ignoring Dylan as he screamed out stuff like, "No, Max, I love you!" or "Come on, let me explain!" and my favorite, "It wasn't what it looked like!" I lost it after he said that, because he was wrong. It was exactly what it looked like.

"What was it, then?" I screamed at him, turning around and throwing my hands in the air. By the time I'd decided to answer, we were both in the large living room and people were gaping openly at the scene unfolding before them.

Without giving Dylan any chance at all to answer – not that he was even going to – went on.

"You know what, Dylan?" I started, my eyes boring lividly into his. I felt like my anger was about to explode inside me and I was going to implode from the force of it. But there was a certain country boy who could cool me down and make me purr in pleasure. "I'm happy I caught you with that skank because I'm tired of hiding this."

And then I turn around, spotted Fang sitting on the couch and talking with Ari, and I walk over to him. He looked up at me in slight confusion, but then grinned and motioned for me to sit down, and I did. Right on his lap.

Before he could say anything and before I lost my sudden braveness, I smashed my mouth against his.

You know when you catch someone off guard and they don't know how to respond, right? Well, that's what I did to Fang, slanting my lips across his and arching against him, and I had a swift pang of regret when he didn't immediately kiss me back. And I was about to pull back, embarrassed and angry, but then somethings sparked and Fang took over control.

His lips – those softly chapped and full lips that could produce a smile that made my knees weak – returned the pressure and began to move across mine, making me moan quietly in delight. His hands came up and grabbed my waist, lifting me up slightly so we could get closer before forcefully yanking my body down onto his. I obliged to his abrupt authoritativeness voluntarily.

Fang ran the tip of his tongue down the middle of my mouth right where my lips came together, and I shivered in lust and enjoyment as I opened my lips to him. His tongue entered my mouth and slid against mine, making me go delirious with passion as I angled my head to get closer.

I was lightheaded with desire, having Fang ravish my mouth with his expertise tongue, and it didn't even bother me how he got his skill. The only thing that was bothering me was the fact that we were kissing in front of an audience and I was doing it to prove a point.

Reluctantly, I pulled back, my bottom lip clinging stickily too his, and I wanted so badly to resume kissing him. But I couldn't, because, a) there were, like, fifty people watching, and b) Dylan needed to be taught a lesson.

Grinning down at a wonderstruck Fang, I winked and climbed off his lap, spinning on my heel and facing Dylan. He was staring at me in shock, thinking how I'd been so hell-bent and loyal to him before. But that was before I met Fang, and he showed me around a country boy's world.

Wiping my lips with my thumb, I smirked deviously at Dylan, wondering what to do next. "Oh, yeah. I forgot something," I announced in the abnormally quiet room, walking to stand in front of him.

I couldn't help what I did next; it was as instinctive as breathing, and I knew it would help calm my raging temper.

Still smirking insanely, I pulled my fist back and let it fly, slamming it right into Dylan's nose. My hand connected with his nose hard and fast, and I felt an odd breaking feeling beneath my knuckles. Uh-oh.

There was a short pause, about a second, and then blood started gushing from both nostrils, coating my finger as I removed it from his face. He fell to the ground from the force of the impact, and I mercilessly stared down at him as he curled into a painful ball, struggling to stop the rapid bleeding from his nose.

What can I say? I could've simply slapped him, which probably would've prevented the effusive blood exiting from his nose. But I needed to prove a point to him, and let him know that I didn't appreciate the fact that it was me who found him and Maya getting a tad freaky in the backseat of his truck.

Besides, I wasn't the kind of girl that slapped.

Speaking of Maya, she was no where to be seen. Probably either hiding from embarrassment or the fact that I was apt to hit her too. She deserved it. But what was the point in searching for her all night when I still had time to party hard. To kick it in the sticks with the critters?

The room was bathed in complete and utter silence, and I knew people were screaming, cursing, crying, or laughing in their minds. It was so quiet you could hear a grasshopper fart from a mile away. Wait, is that even possible? Oh, whatever. You get my drift.

They just didn't want to let any noise pass their lips for fear that I'd attack them too. And, to be honest, I actually felt like taking my renewed anger out on someone I didn't know. But that would have to wait, because right now, I wanted to party with my country boy.

I swung my gaze back around, probing to find Fang in the overflowing crowd, and I saw him leaning up against the doorframe that led out of the house and into the yard. He gave me a knowing grin, as thankful as I was that we could finally continue with our newly found relationship without having to do it in hiding.

Hmm, I liked the idea of going public with Fang Hawthorne. It'd be the best thing in my life.

I grinned back at him, my face and eyes taking on a relaxed look, and I called to him, "Let's blow this joint."

Fang led the way.

**HOI, lol!**

**So, what'd ya think? I told you you'd love it! Didn't I? a little long, but wasn't it worth it?**

**I can't take credit for this idea, because it was a wonderful reviewer who gave me it back when we first started this wild ride. I knew I wanted to do it, and I tweaked a little things in your idea. Instead of having Max slap Dylan, I went that extra mile and made her bitch slap him back to Bangkok! (Rush Hour 2 reference; watch the movie to understand it). **

**Also, I incorporated some Brantley Gilbert lyrics in here from his kickass song **Take It Outside. **Here they are: **We're all here for a good time. Don't start no trouble, 'cause it won't be the first time I put a scare on my knuckles. We're all here for a good time. Don't start no trouble, 'cause it won't be the first time I put a scare on my knuckles. But if both of us walk out that door, one of us ain't comin' back. Let's have some respect. Got girls in here. Just pay your tab and lay down your beer, hoss, and let's take it outside

**Badass huh? I thought so too! :) And if you don't know what a 'hoss' is, here the definition: **A hoss is a word commonly used around my parts that is used to describe a totally strong and ripped OLD man... **That's it!**

**But hey, tell me what ya think! I will totally love you forever...!**

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	16. Chapter 16

**Oh yes! I just freaking wrote that awesome chapter that you are still jacked up on! Lol just kidding. Oh, and here's another question: **_Anyone else besides me heard that kangaroos can't hop backward? Yeah, so if you, like, ever go to Australia and get attacked by one, just get behind it!_

**I told y'all that was the major turning point. And now this is where Max starts to realize that Fang is the one for her, and always will be. Awe, that sounds so mushy! Also, it seems like this story has no plot, and if it does I can't see it. But don't worry, it'll come soon, like it does in the books (at the end) 'cause I got the _GREATEST IDEA EVER!_ Thank you, Blue Mountain State. (Review if you've ever seen that show)**

**Anywho, **_Thank you to the reviewer who answered BOTH of my questions. I really appreciate it! and just for doing that... This chapter is dedicated to you! Hope you enjoy! _**Also, thanks a lot to the reviewer who gave me the idea of Max and Dylan's break up once again. I FREAKING OWE YOU!**

**Okay, this chapter is actually inspired by something that happened to me and I'd dreamed about happening. But I won't tell you the WHOLE story till you read it! =} Haha! And here we go...**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Anger was still bubbling up in my body as Fang and I made our way to the Challenger parked around back, leaving an astonished party (including my younger brother, his girlfriend, and two of my friends) a scared slut, and a rejected boyfriend whom I'd just found cheating on me with the aforementioned slut. But I left with a very hot, very funny, very wild country boy who had better show me how to have one helluva good time in Monroe.

Well, you can't please everybody, as they say.

I was still high on the adrenaline and exhilaration of punching Dylan in the nose, and possibly breaking it. He deserved it, in my opinion, because I could've done a whole hell of a lot worse. Besides, I'd been the one that found him and Maya. Maybe – just _maybe_ – if it'd have been someone else besides me, I might've just slapped him. But it hadn't been, and I went the whole ten yards for payback.

Payback's a bitch.

That shocked and frightened look that had crossed his features after I'd pummeled him in the face so hard he fell had burned its way into my memory forever, sealing the deal and never leaving. So, any time I wanted to remind myself not to date an asshole, all I had to do was recall that precious commemoration.

I didn't exactly want to leave Ella and Ari alone with all those crazy-butt people, but I knew they'd be safe under the watchful eyes of Fang's friends. Besides, I saw the look Ella and Iggy shared after the got done playing eye-hockey, and I knew he wouldn't let her out of his sight without a fight first.

"Can I drive?" I asked as he dug into his back pocket for his keys. I gazed up at him hopefully, taking in the new hat that was plopped proficiently on his head, and I noted that it was a simple black cap with his initials carved in the center, the letters _T _and _H _intertwined together – just like the tattoo on top of the Challenger.

Fang gave me a look, and I interpreted it to say something like, _You wreck, you're payin' for it. _But he tossed me the keys and walked over to the passenger side instead of the driver side. Hmm, I wouldn't admit this aloud, but I was freakin' _shocked _that he'd let me drive this badass car after the ordeal with his truck.

Oh well. Gotta make the best of it, I guess.

When Fang and I had walked from the house, we'd stopped by a large ice-chest and grabbed a few beers for the each of us. And now, as I tugged the driver side door open, I was sipping an ice cold Busch Light. It was different than the moonshine; instead of burning my throat as it went down, it lightly grazed my esophagus and tickled the walls of my throat.

I still liked the shine better, though. But at least I was getting a buzz from this too.

I plopped myself in the black leather seat, shutting the door as delicately as possible because I had no desire to break this bad bitch. I set the beer down in between my legs, squeezing it tightly so it wouldn't fall, and fumbled stupidly with the keys before I finally achieved my goal of thrusting the keys in the ignition.

By the time I'd finished that arduous task, Fang was trying to smother his laughter. I really felt like punching him as I had Dylan, perhaps even breaking his nose as well. But then I realized I didn't really want to, because then I'd screw up that face. And I just couldn't do that.

I felt like I needed to impress Fang with my driving, let him know that I was fully capable of operating a vehicle several decades older than me. I had no idea why I had the sudden, unexplained urge to dazzle him, but I knew I couldn't shake that feeling off as I turned the key and revved the engine – a V8, made for power, not the usual stuff.

"You know," I started as I pulled the gearshift into Reverse and backed out, "I would really love to know how you got your hands on a car like this." I didn't feel like I was being nosey, and just to make sure Fang didn't either, I casted him a glance. I saw a faint hit of a smile and knew I was in the clear.

He shrugged just as I switched in into Drive. "My old man had it when he was growin' up," he explained, taking a long sip of his beer. He'd gotten BudLight instead, and I felt like a retard for getting a beer that probably tasted like crap compared to the others. "Used to be my Grandpa's 'fore he passed."

And cue the awkward silence. Really, you could hear a freaking squirrel fart if you listened hard enough. I tried to, but found that mission very strenuous. I gave up in, like, two-point-five seconds.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice sounding wimpy and unlike me. I knew what it was like to lose someone – I'd lost someone real close to me last year. Her name was J.J. and she'd been hit by a drunk driver on her way home after school. I still cried when I thought of her, but I wouldn't let the tears fall now.

Fang shrugged again – jeez, what was with him and the shrugs – and took a drink of the beer again as I sped down the driveway, flicking the lights on bright so I wouldn't smash into anything and ruin this vehicle too. Although the whole trial of the truck being pancaked wasn't exactly my fault; I was the one that suggested the idea and Fang was the one that went through with it. He was the dumbass in that equation.

He reached over and turned the radio on, blaring a song called 'Too Much Fun' by Daryle Singletary as I pulled out onto the main highway. The loud music terminated the casual conversation between us, and I got the feeling that he didn't feel up to talking at that moment. Oh well, I actually knew this song.

The song was about a guy who was apparently having 'too much fun' with his friends on a Saturday night. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, singing slightly along with the radio. _Drivin' ninety down a dead end road... _

Just as the song said, I slammed my foot down on the gas, not letting up till the speedometer reached my intended speed: Ninety. The sudden acceleration sucked us both against the leather seat, and I watched, laughing hysterically as Fang grabbed both our beers before they fell.

I liked going fast. Always have. I didn't exactly know why. I always thought that it was the rush and surging flow of unexpected adrenaline, making my heart speed up beyond belief and my breaths come in sharp pants. And you know what? I was beginning to think that my hypothesis was true.

I was a speed demon. You gotta problem with that?

A corner was briskly approaching us, and I jerked the wheel to the left as we flew sideways, tearing our way around the curve and causing a car – a polished Dodge Charger – to have to swerve into the other lane. Sorry, but I was having too much fun.

In fact, I was having so much fun that I didn't realize that the Charger was, in fact, a police car. Before I had time to blink, I saw red and blue flashing lights speeding up behind us, and I groaned loudly, tapping the brakes as I pulled over onto the shoulder.

Can we say deja-vu?

I groaned aloud, resting my perspired forehead against the steering wheel, my knuckles gripping so tightly that they were turning a ghostly white. At my side, Fang was swearing under his breath, throwing the beer bottles in the back and digging in the glovebox for his registration, I suppose.

"What're you doing?" I asked curiously, trying to take my mind off my racing heart. My eyes caught sight of a man with dark hair and a beard exiting the Charger. He pulled his black slacks up and reached for his flashlight, readjusting his belt. The sight of a cop walking toward me made me sick at my stomach, and I looked away before I vomited all over the Challenger.

"'Cause, that's Dan Law, and he hasn't ever liked me," Fang explained, slamming the glovebox shut after a fruitless attempt at locating the document. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to go to jail tonight. I want to spend it with you."

Before I had time to appreciate what he'd said (oh my freaking gosh, he wanted to spend the night with _me_ of all people!) Dan Law was standing beside the open window, and the headiness the beer had been accumulating in my body was instantly expelled as I stared up at Danny Boy.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?" the cop, Dan Law, asked boringly, shining his flashlight directly into my eyes, succeeding in his task of making me blind.

Annoyed and a little buzzed, I shrugged. "I was having too much fun?" I guessed weakly, relishing in Fang's slight laughter and squinting my eyes so I could stare up into Dan Law's eyes and see what his reaction was to my stupid answer.

He groaned loudly, and muttered something very malicious, and I frowned as I tried to decipher what he'd said. It sounded like he'd said, "Two more –" some very colorful cursing "– kids screwed up on beer." I didn't like the way he depicted Fang and me one bit.

We weren't kids, and we damn well weren't screwed up on beer. You can't always judge a book by its cover.

"No," he said, though it came out in a sigh. "I pulled you over because you were doin' ninety in a sixty-five zone, miss." He sounded tired and stultified, as if he'd been doing this kind of thing for several decades. And by the looks of his thinning black hair and graying beard, he had been.

"I didn't know I couldn't do that," I answered, faking an unintelligent tone, making sure my mouth and eyes were opened wide so I'd look convincing. Fang almost went into cardiac arrest from trying to suppress his roaring laughter. I liked it when I made him laugh; the deep sound washed over me and made me ecstatic, lusting after more.

Dan Law rolled his eyes at my idiotic behavior, and I could tell that he was getting disgruntled at my imprudent quirks. Oh well, he just had to deal with it.

"License and registration, please," he demanded of me, his voice monotone, as if he were reciting a very uninteresting piece of information. Fatigue was radiating from his body and slinking into the car, engulfing me in his weariness and making my shoulders slump.

This guy was really killing the mood.

Feeling a little fearless thanks to the beer on top of the crazy good moonshine and Fang's exhilarating kisses, I handed the dark brown bottle of Busch Light to the cop and asked, "Hold this while I look for my license, okay?"

The cop, known all over town as Dan Law, took the bottle with a weird look on his face, like he'd just seen the ghost of his grandpa and couldn't comprehend what he'd just witnessed. To say in the least, it was a priceless look, and I so badly wished that I had my phone with me so I could take a picture and freeze his face forever. But I couldn't, sadly.

Fang was trying hard not to laugh, sipping his beer so no noise would accidentally escape his full lips. Dan Law looked pointedly at Fang, giving him a questioning look, and Fang shrugged in answer, his shoulders shaking from his slight chuckles. I couldn't hold back the grin that spread across my face, so wide it was a wonder my face didn't split right in half.

I fiddled around a minute or two in the console, moving around several forms of paper, tattered pairs of black work gloves, and missing tools. But I knew I couldn't keep up this charade forever, because Dan Law was going to realize, sooner rather than later, that I didn't have my driver's license with me and was drinking under the influence. And it didn't help that I was underaged either.

And so I made a snap split-second decision – you know, those ones that either almost get you killed or save your ass – and I jerked the Challenger into Drive, slammed on the gas, and tore off into the night, slinging gravel all over an amazed, astonished, and slightly ticked off Dan Law. Who was still holding my half empty beer bottle, staring at it as if it were a poisonous rattlesnake.

Well, now I was just like Fang – bendin' the rules and breakin' the law.

**PAGE BREAK! WOW WOW WUBBZY! ANYONE BESIDES ME SEEN THAT CRAPPY SHOW?**

"Enlighten me, Fang," I said as we walked over a barren patch of yard, heading toward a closed red gate with a yellow cattle guard beneath it. I know, they should've painted the gate and guard both one solid color, because now it looked like a bunch of freaking clowns lived here. "Why the hell are we here again?"

After my crazy antics with Dan Law and speeding off like mad when I couldn't find anything, Fang had given me directions to this place. I didn't know it was going to be a freaking wasteland. If I might've known that little tidbit of info, I probably wouldn't have made this crazy drive to Heavener.

Fang sighed exasperatedly, and I felt a grin float across my lips. "I know these folks. They're real good people, and their son – he's Ari's age – is this pro dirt bike racer or somethin'. They said they wouldn't mind if I ever wanted to ride that sweet ride, 'cause I'd helped them rebuild their house after those tornados that wiped through here in the spring destroyed it."

"Oh," was all I could say as we proceeded to climb over the gate.

Was I sorta freaked about trespassing on someone's property after that deal with Old Man Reed? Why, yes, I was. Because I didn't feel like getting shot at anymore tonight. But who knows? Maybe these people were actually as nice as Fang had made them out to be, and they wouldn't mind us riding their kid's bike at midnight.

It wasn't against the rules to hope.

There was a large metal garage with dark red paint splattered on the side sitting out beside a track made of dirt, dirt, and more dirt. Dirt hills, dirt jumps, dirt tracks. Ugh, was this kid freaking obsessed with dirt? Can we get a little asphalt in here, maybe even gravel? It didn't occur to me that maybe a dirt bike was called a _dirt _bike for a reason, and when I figured that out, I felt like slapping myself.

I was so freaking stupid sometimes.

Fang walked casually over to the building, picked the lock on it with his pocketknife, and then entered the open door. I stood off to the left and watched, bemused at how Fang knew exactly where to go and what to do. He'd probably done this sort of thing numerous times before, either to have a good time or hang with the kid.

I wondered how many girls he'd ever brought here with him? And I didn't mean girls like Star or Angel; girls like Maya, who used to be his girlfriend. I swear, if Maya was anywhere near this place, I would freaking leave and walk back to Tulsa. It wasn't bad enough that she ruined my relationship with Dylan, but she had to try and come between Fang and me too.

I hated busybodies.

I lost myself in my thoughts, jumping slightly when a loud sound of an engine pierced the still air. A second later, Fang rode out of the building on a lime green, midnight blue, and fire engine red dirt bike, with the name _Bryant Thompson _glittering in silver paint on both sides.

"Hop on," Fang said, motioning for me to sit on the back of it. I looked at the limited space available to me, and my heart sunk. If Fang didn't throw me off, I'd fall off because my butt was bigger than the two measly inches he gave me to sit on. F that shit.

But I wasn't going to be a pussy. I was going to swallow my fear, force my ass on that thing, and ride it like it was the best thing in the world. Although, that was easier said than done, because when I finally summed up enough courage in my mind to actually walk over and sit on the thing, I felt as if I was about to throw up.

Fang took off after telling me how to hold my feet – up and out – and then I immediately started to wobble. Which, apparently, is bad.

"Don't wobble, Max," Fang hollered over the loud roar of the engine, looking over his shoulder and giving me a devious smirk, his very dark eyes glinting in the faint light from the moon. He was laughing at me; he was enjoying my obvious distress, and basking in it like a glorified asshole. "It's okay."

I nodded my head against his shoulder, still peeved at him, tightening my grip around his waist. "I won't," I replied, talking into his ear, closing my eyes and shielding my face from the bitter cold wind.

Fang revved the engine a little, and I squeezed harder as we accelerated down the dirt path. "I know why you're scared," he said as we steadily gained speed, tearing down the road. _Please enlighten me, because I have no clue. _"You don't trust me."

I thought it over for a moment as he cut a sharp corner, leaning the way we turned. He was wrong; I trusted his crazy-butt wholeheartedly if I was riding on the back of this _contraption _with him.

I shook my head, raising my lips up to his ear. "No, I trust you, Fang. I do," I reassured him, my lips grazing his earlobe. "It's just... I've never rode one of these before." And you have no freaking clue how much pride it took for me to admit that to him.

"You've never been on one?" he asked me, making sure. His voice sounded shocked and incredulous, as if he couldn't believe what I'd just said. Well, it was the truth, buddy-o.

In answer, I shook my head again.

I heard him sigh powerfully over the thunderous hum of the motor. "Scoot up, lean in, and hold on," he said, as if he were annoyed at me. If he was, he could let me off and I'd friggin' walk back to the Challenger; I didn't need this bike to get around anywhere. "I won't go faster than second gear."

Again, I nodded, doing everything he told me. I scooted closer, aware that he was now cradled in between my thighs for, like, the tenth time tonight, and I gushed in the immediate pleasure and happiness it unleashed within my body. I felt a relentless blush heating my chilled face at that thought. And then I leaned into him, which only made it more awkward and intimate then ever before.

But I liked it – I won't lie.

"Thanks for the info," I said into his ear, and that's when it happened.

The bike suddenly jerked sideways, facing the west, and I was flung off, my knees coming into solid contact with the knobbly ground. I tried to stop myself by placing my hands out as if I were about to do a push-up, but that didn't help, and I went into a series of front flips that threw me up against a large dirt pile.

My head connected with a thick clump of mud, and I winced as I rubbed my temple. My eyes foggy and slightly dazed, I looked around for Fang and spotted him lying on the ground on his back, bringing his knees up as he groaned quietly.

Scrambling to my feet and ignoring the shock of pain in my head, I jogged over toward Fang, sliding to a stop beside him. His eyes were closed, his lips flattened into a tight line. I placed my hand on his chest, straining to feel the beat of his heart, and his grasped my hand before squashing it in between his.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, bending down so I could see his face. He had a small scratch running from the top of his left nostril to the right corner of his nose, but other than that he seemed to be relatively okay. I was happy that I didn't have to take him to a hospital or anything.

He nodded. "Grab my hat," he muttered, opening his eyes to slits. I looked around for the aforementioned object, and found it laying several yards away from us. Jerking my hand free, I crawled over and retrieved it, returning to Fang. I plopped it on his head carefully; he was in a sitting position now, leaning on his hands for support.

Fang glanced at me, dusting off his jeans. "You good?" he asked, wiping a hint of dirt from my cheek before cupping it in his large hand. In response, I nodded. I believed that, if I even uttered a word, I would either burst out into hysterics, tears, or laughter. None of which were acceptable at this moment.

We stood together in silence for a moment, both taking in the noises around us. There was a cricket and a coyote howling at the moon; I heard a horse whiny and a goat bah, and even birds chirp as they bedded down for the night. And, the most annoying of all, was the dirt bike as it spun around off to the right. It was really pissing me off.

"So, you and Dylan are over, right?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck in uncertainty. He didn't need to be dubious of what that kiss meant, because it was my goal to let him know how I felt through it. No, I didn't love him, but I did feel a strong attraction to him that was so powerful it was making my head spin.

I smiled at him. "Over as a four-leaved clover," I said stupidly, mentally slapping myself for my idiocy. Who the hell said something like that to a guy like Fang? Ugh, only you, Max. Only you.

Fang lightly grazed the side of my bare arm, running the tips of his fingers up to my shoulder, slinking under the fabric of his blue shirt. I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to suppress a shiver.

"I'm glad," he announced in a whispery-soft voice, his hot breath gyrating across my chilled face, instantly warming me.

He looked at me, a grin quirking his lips, and I barely had time to breathe before his soft lips met mine. My eyes were wide at the unanticipated tender action, and I sighed pleasurably as I wound my arms around his neck.

This was no passionate kiss – this was more like our first one. No opened mouths, no battles of the tongue. Just the simple pressure of his lips pressed against mine, barely grazing, leaving me delirious with thrill and need.

Fang was someone who could bring thrill into my life – make living life the thrill it was meant to be. I envied him for that ability because people are rarely made like that. They're rarely ever made to be able to forgive someone of crushing their truck and let them drive your car, which was passed down to you as an heirloom.

Fang was unlike any other boy I'd ever met. Wait, he was no boy. Fang was a man. A pure, handsome, strong, masculine male that had the knowing ability to send my blood boiling with just one glance of his eyes. It wasn't fair.

He pulled back, breathless, and stood up, reaching down to aid me up. "Wanna ride again?" he asked, acting like a dickhead, giving me that infuriating smirk as he motioned toward the bike laying against a dirt pile.

"Go to hell," was my reply, and I glared up at him to let him know that I meant it. There was no freaking way I was ever going to get on that contraption ever again. I didn't want to die prematurely. That was idiotic.

"Only if you'll come with me," he retorted, grinning deviously as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side. I melted into him, wrapping my arms loosely around his waist as we walked toward the gate.

"We'll see," I said quietly, gazing up at the starry sky. There were, like, a quadrillion freaking stars dotting the midnight sky, giving an eerie glow to the earth beneath my feet. It was cool, though; in Tulsa, the sky was too congested with pollution and bright lights to be able to see the stars. It was a nice change. One that I liked.

It didn't even occur to me till we were heading to the Challenger that we'd left the bike resting on a pile of dirt, still running and wasting gas. Oh well, wasn't my problem. I just hoped that those people wouldn't freak out about Fang riding the bike. It's a great virtue to me optimistic, if you didn't already know.

I wondered what the others were up to?

**Okay, here's the whole story: I went to my best friend's party a few weeks back, and the guy she likes begged me to ride the dirt bike with him, and I was like "I'd weigh it down. Leave me alone." And he did, but then I really wanted to ride it. So I did. He took off like a bat outta hell, and I started to wobble like crazy. We almost wrecked, like, 80 times. But I added the part where Max and Fang crashed to my story because it sounded cool. **

**Oh, and our other guy friend brought his 4-wheeler, and that sucker goes fast! The guy who made me ride the dirt bike with him gave me a ride on the 4-wheeler... and threw me off 5 times! Once was to get his hat, once was when he took a curve too sharp, twice was when he gassed it and I flew off the back, and once when he ramped a hill. I'm still mad at him. **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed! And please review? You'll like the next chapter better. **

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	17. Chapter 17

**Yeah, I got this idea from a movie, but I ain't gonna tell you which one because it is a freakin' great movie and you need to watch it. _But you'll like this chapter..._^_^ The story's starting to heat up, and before too long we're gonna hit the CLIMAX, and you're gonna LOVE IT!**

**Oh, and I just had my first pedicure – which is weird. Since I work a lot, I really don't take good care of my feet, and so the beauty people made fun of my feet in Chinese. I called 'em meanies. I got them painted a bright turquoise color with black zebra stripes. And the chairs massaged your butt! It'd get really inflated on your butt, and it felt like someone was sticking something in your butt-hole. WEIRD... **

**Anywho, there ya go... A little insight to what I do on the weekends sometimes. And here we go... **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

You'd expect that everyone would be a little mellow and calm when we'd came back since there had been time for them to relax themselves down from Dylan's and my intense breakup. But you know what? That _wasn't _the case.

Fang and I walked in through front door, me rubbing at the itchy scratch Lissa gave me on the side of my cheek and Fang mouthing about the spilt beer in his car while clutching my hand sweetly in his, and we were immediately bombarded with people throwing themselves into action.

Iggy and Ratchet were jerking drawers out from a desk, rummaging through the contents at unimaginable speed and throwing things over their backs. The Gasman had recruited Ari to help him get pillows and cushions from everything – couches, beds, even the cushions from the chairs in the kitchen – and were chunking them out an open window into the yard.

Star, Ella, and Angel were running around and grabbing several electronic devices, stuffing the objects into the low-hanging sports bags perched on their shoulder. Kate and Holden were outside, throwing the pillows and cushions in the back of Ratchet's truck. Did I mention they were fighting? No? Well they were, over something stupid, like when the milk will expire. Nudge was helping them, trying fruitlessly to ignore their bickering.

Dylan and Maya were no where in sight, probably in the upstairs getting it on. Oh well, he wasn't _my_ boyfriend anymore.

Confusion and complete cluelessness washed over me, and I stared, bemused, as everyone continued with the job they'd been given. I swear my eyes started to bug from my head and my jaw dropped open, hitting the hardwood floor. I cocked my head sideways, which was something I did whenever I was perplexed, and chewed on my lip, watching intently.

Beside me, holding my hand, Fang sighed. "Okay," he said, loudly enough to get everyone's attention, even those outside. Leave it to Fang to be able to bring order to a room. Everyone looked at him expectantly and discontinued what they were doing. "What're you guys doin'?"

Ratchet and Iggy looked at each other, sharing a surreptitious smirk, and then they answered simultaneously. "Bus racin'."

Bus racing? Is that what they just said? Bus racing? What the hell is that? Are they freaking stupid – you can't race a _bus_! Buses are, like, eighty freaking feet long (not really). How the crap do they expect to race a vehicle that has they length of an eighteen-wheeler?

I expected Fang to use his crazy empowerment over everyone to shut their little fantasy down, but instead he simply grinned and dropped my hand, walking over to where his brother and Iggy were standing. I just stood there, still confused, but now angry at Fang too.

"Been a while since we've done that," Fang mused, helping Iggy and Ratchet search for whatever they were looking for. As usual, I just stood out of the way of everyone and let them do what they were supposed to be doing. But I was still curious as to what _bus racing _was exactly.

"What's bus racing?" I asked, because it couldn't be what it sounded like. It couldn't be people actually racing buses. It can't be that easy. Could it?

Iggy and Ratchet both casted a glance at Fang, as if to say _Your chick ain't got no common sense_. I took it offensively, but Fang only grinned, a faraway look glazing over his dark eyes.

"It's where you race buses against one another," a voice said behind me, one that made my blood boil in anger and loathing, and I turned around to see Dylan standing five feet behind me with Maya tucked against his side. His nose had a large white bandaged wrapped over it, and I saw I drip of blood coloring the plain white gauze.

Annoyance erupted throughout my body, and I sighed in exasperation, hoping that my pent of breath being released might be able to calm my angrily racing heart. Didn't help whatsoever.

I hated Dylan – I truly, honestly did. I had a reason, too. I'd caught him cheating on me with the skank-bag that tried to make my jealous by using my attraction to Fang against me. I hated Maya too. Although I suppose I should be thanking them since I was finally able to be with Fang and not have to hide it.

"I'm surprised you and Maya aren't off finishing what you started," I retorted unforgivingly at him, spinning around and placing my hands on my hips. Maya stuck her tongue out at me – a childish gesture that only succeeded in pissing me off even more – and I flipped her the bird, preparing myself for a fight if it happened to break out.

Dylan sighed, face-palming. "Listen, Max. I –" I cut him off angrily.

"I don't wanna hear your bullshit," I said to him, my angry light brown eyes staring into his large turquoise ones, allowing him to see the seething anger and undeniable hatred I was harboring inside.

I couldn't stop the anger as it escaped the folds of my brain and started to flock all over my body, making me see red. I marched over to Fang, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him downward so I could see him. He wrapped his own arms around my waist and lifted me up against him, desire and heat flooding through his eyes.

I heard Ari fake-vomit and Nudge exclaim, "OMGP, not this again!" I silently wondered what the _P _meant, but I didn't ask because I was too preoccupied with staring up into Fang's dark brown eyes – so much different then Dylan's, clouded with mystery that tugged at your soul and invited you in.

I pecked his lips lightly, running my fingers down the side of his neck and over his exposed collarbone, teasing him seductively. I heard Dylan groan behind me, and I smirked up at him, my eyes glinting in the overhead light.

"Let's go race some buses," I whispered in his ear, leading him out the door toward the Challenger.

**PAGE BREAK! I REALLY WANT TO TAKE THIS POLISH OFF BUT I CAN'T CUZ MY COUSIN SAID SHE'D KICK MY ASS!**

The bus racing track was buried deep in the heart of Howe, surrounded by nothing but barren farmland and the occasional animal. Fang told me that when that tornado that ripped through here in the 1940s, they didn't rebuild back several houses and instead built a large racing track where people would race their hotrods on the weekends.

The track was large and wide, with a track created like a figure-eight. Square hay bales were dotting the sides and the middle of the track, letting people know where to turn and what to do. There were large metal bleachers surrounding the perimeter of the track, with a large chain length fence twenty-five feet tall in between it and the track for protection.

It was pretty badass, if I say so myself.

Iggy had ran ahead and flicked on the overhead lights as we all entered the race tracks, silent and brooding as we calculated where and how we were all going to race. Ella and Nudge had told me that they didn't feel like racing a bus, and so they're going to sit it out with Star, Kate, and Angel.

And now, as all of us crowded together under an overhead spot light, Fang grabbed a stick from the ground and bent down, pulling everyone's attention to himself.

"We race in a figure-eight," Fang said, proceeding to draw an example of the truck in the grungy dirt at our feet. "The only things you gotta watch are the corners." He tapped each corner with the stick. "You might capsize. And the intersection." He then tapped the middle twice, right where the tracks crossed. "Everyone knows why to watch that."

Fang glanced up at us, making sure that everyone knew what they were doing. We all nodded, and Fang stood up, which was the cue for everyone to start picking someone to ride with.

"You ridin' with me?" Fang asked me, motioning to a bus painted pitch black with red, yellow, and orange flames twirling together and licking the length of the vehicle on both sides. In the middle, right above the tire, was the letters _T _and _H _intertwined together. Yep, that was Fang's bus alright.

But I didn't want to ride with him, not really. I actually wanted to race a bus, do everything myself. Of course, I'd need someone with me to teach me how to drive the bus and control all the gears and levers. But I didn't want that person to be Fang, because we'd probably end up making out on the seat rather than racing the bus. And I told him so.

"I want to do it myself," I answered him, squinting my eyes as I looked up at him. I couldn't tell if he was angry or not; the lights were behind him, and they were shadowing his face, barely allowing his cheek bones to be visible.

He shrugged casually, reaching out and cupping my cheek. I looked questioningly up at him, wondering what he was doing, and that's when I saw the devious smirk aligning itself across his full lips. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my mouth, either.

"Whatever, Max," he replied, rolling his eyes as he moved his hand. "You can ride with Iggy; he likes it when people screw up."

Did that mean he thought I was going to screw up? Anger boiled up inside me, and I crossed my arms in a stubborn manner, stepping back so he could see my enraged face clearly. "What's that mean, Fang?" I asked, vexation dripping off my tongue. I hated being underestimated because I was different, because I was a _girl_.

His smirk only grew larger, into an annoyingly cute and fraudulent grin. He plucked his black hat from his head and laying it gently on mine, smoothing his hands through my hair before resting them on his shoulder. I looked up at him questioningly, wanting to know what that was about.

"For good luck," he answered my silent question. Then he was gone, grabbing Ari by the shoulder and steering him toward the bus that had Fang's initials on it.

"Looks like you're with me, kiddo," Iggy said, walking up behind me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders brotherly. He saw the kiss Fang and I shared, and I know he saw me break Dylan's nose, so he wouldn't try anything with me for fear that I'd attack him – or, worse, Fang.

"Looks like it," I said as he turned me around and drug me toward his bus on the other end of the lot, trailing after Fang and Ari. Ratchet and the Gasman were heading toward a green and brown camouflage bus, and so I assumed that they were on a team. On the far left, walking with that bitch Maya. I was so gonna smoke those assholes.

"So, you know how to drive a bus?" Iggy asked me as we walked over to a bus painted blood red with sky blue stripes racing down the side and fluffy stuffed animals hanging from it. I scratched my head, taking in all the bears and lions, dogs and kittens, fish and chickens. Every kind of stuffed animal you could ever imagine was dangling from this vehicle. My favorite was of a dog turned around and showing its butt to everyone.

"Uh, no. Not really," I answered truthfully, realizing that there was no sense in lying to him. I'd never had to drive one before, so I never felt the need to master the art of operating this big-ass hunk of metal.

Iggy groaned, running a hand through his thick strawberry blonde hair. "You wanna drive, right?" he asked me, and I nodded, stepping up onto the stairs and hefting myself in with assistance from the metal bar running upward. "Okay, it's not as hard as you think."

I nodded, listening to everything he was saying as I sat down in the leather seat, leaning back into a comfortable position before starting it. The engine rumbled as it came to life, sputtering from the pipes and groaning. I firmly placed my hands on the steering wheel, positioning my fingers in the exact way I wanted them.

"When you get to the intersection, pump the brakes 'cause that fakes 'em out," he supplied me with, stepping up into the bus and reaching above him to hang onto a pipe running down the length of the bus. "Slow down when you come to the turns 'cause it ain't that hard to flip something this big."

"Okay," I said, already planning it out. I was in the middle, with Fang to my left and Ratchet to my right; Dylan was on the other side of Fang. If I gave it enough gas when we started, I could probably pull ahead of everyone and not have to worry about colliding with anyone.

"That CB radio there is for us all to communicate when we're drivin'," Iggy continued, pointing at the mechanism stuffed into a tight space with a large handheld walkie-talkie looking thing laying on the top. "We're on station four; it should done be on that station."

I picked up the talkie and held it to my lips, pushing the button down so I wouldn't have to hear any static. I was immediately drug into a conversation I didn't know what to say in – something about what kind of panties someone was wearing – and so Iggy thankfully grabbed the talkie from my hands and switched the channel from station six to four.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, looking back up at me with wide and entertained eyes. "Other people race these sometimes, so there ain't no tellin' who put it on that station." At least I believed him, but I made a mental note to let him work the talkie from now on.

Kate, Star, Angel, Nudge, and Ella all walked to the middle of the tracks, hopping in the back of Ratchet's truck which Holden was driving. Ella was holding up a green flag, which was actually her designer green angelic shirt, and I heard Iggy whistle pervertedly beside me. I slapped him upside the head so hard he almost fell from the bus.

"That's my sister, pig," I said in answer to his angry gaze.

I watched as Holden started the truck and gassed it, going so fast that all the girls were flung frontward. I decided that if he hurt any of them, I was going to hurt him. With the help of everyone else here, and maybe even Roland.

"Start your engines!" Ella yelled, and I felt stupid because I'd already started mine. Instead I honked my horn, blaring it unexpectedly, and Iggy tripped slightly as he switched positions. Dummy.

Angel was holding a black and white checkered flag high above her blonde head, and then she abruptly dropped it, which was the signal for everyone to ram on the gas pedal and take off.

I went with the flow and jabbed my foot down on the pedal – after figuring out how to put the thing in gear thanks to Iggy – accelerating to speeds so fast and unexpected that Iggy was flung backward and flew down the isle a tad, cursing the whole way.

I laughed, but my sudden snickering caused me to lose concentration and Fang pulled ahead of me, not giving me any mercy even though I was a newbie. I caught sight of Ari as he pointed and laughed at me, and in response to his ridicule I flipped him the bird.

After that, Ratchet sped ahead of me, trailing after Fang, and then it was just me and Dylan, fighting for third place. Ratchet said we could slam into each other on he way here, so I took that invitation and jerked the wheel to the right, knocking into Dylan and sending him sailing into the bales surrounding the track.

The impact sent Iggy and me both flying sideways, and I stopped myself before I could collide with anything. But Iggy, sadly, didn't hold onto anything and he slammed up against the seat I was sitting in.

One bale was fortunate enough to hit the front left wheel just right, and it caused Dylan and Maya flip over and slide about forty feet.

A dust cloud suddenly formed and bathed Iggy and I in grime, causing us to go into a coughing fit since the soot found its way down our throats. The bus swerved out of control for a moment, but I luckily got in back under my authority before I could hit anything.

Was I sorry? Yes, in a way, because I'd just ruined that bus. But other than that, I thought that they both deserved what I'd done to them after what they'd done to me. I mean, hell, I'd been the one that caught them. At least they weren't damaged internally; I saw them climb out of the window and yell angry words at me.

I laughed at their predicament, and Iggy joined in with me. He slapped me a quick high-five before grabbing the CB and conversing with the Gasman and Ratchet over what I'd just done.

But then I saw the corner approaching quickly, and Iggy saw it too, because he stopped mid-sentence in badmouthing the Gasman and looked at me, terrified. He didn't believe in me; he didn't think I could pull this curve off. He was just like Fang, underestimating me because I didn't know what to do.

I'd show both of them doubtful assholes.

Right as I entered the corner, I gassed it and jerked the wheel to the left as far as it could go, proceeding to tip the bus off the ground, all the weight resting on the left tires. Iggy cussed at me, saying some very colorful words as we were fully pulled into the heart of the curve, and once we were clear of it, I glanced over my shoulder to smirk at Iggy knowingly.

But he wasn't there.

I looked out my review mirror, watching Iggy as he rolled and flipped, till he was stopped my a square hay bale that he somersaulted into. I looked down, my eyes wide in shock, surprise, and amusement. I'd just thrown Iggy out of the bus while racing it against Fang and my brother, Dylan and his new chick, and Ratchet and the atomic fart machine.

Wow, nelly.

"You just sling Ig out?" Gasser voice, thick with static and confusion, came over the CB and I leaned down to grab it off the floor, jerking the wheel to the right and slinging me onto the ground. I grabbed the CB and jumped back into the seat before it could slam into the other bales lining the track.

"Yes, sirree, I did," I said into the CB, listening to Gassy and Ratchet laugh like wild hyenas on the other end. I heard the others start joining in, and I searched through all the static and laughter to find Fang's slight chuckles. His voice was the deepest of them all, and a little chill ran up my spine at the thought of him whispering sweet things into my ears.

I laughed again as I set the radio down and sped up, growing closer to both Ratchet and Fang. The intersection was rapidly approaching, and I knew it'd be bad because Ratchet and I were going to cross at the same time; Fang had done crossed and was barreling along down the track.

I saw Ratchet speeding toward the intersection, and I tried to slow down but couldn't; the pedal must've been jammed or something, and so I instead gained speed. Ratchet's frightened and static-filled voice came over the CB. "Slow down, Max!" I was playing a deadly game of chicken with Ratchet.

And then I remembered what Iggy had told me right before I threw him out of the bus. _Pump the breaks when you get to intersection 'cause it fakes 'em out. _Thank you, Gandhi Iggy! 

I did as he said and tapped the brakes, which immediately caused Ratchet to speed up. But I was already on the intersection, and instead of going passed me like he'd planned, he slammed into my backside and flipped, sliding just as Dylan and Maya had.

I was jerked sideways, the back part of my bus splintering apart and falling off, flames starting to erupt from the metal-on-metal friction. My forehead hit the window, and I winced and cursed loudly as the pain erupted from the impact, and I rubbed my head and turned the bus back around so I could continue with the race.

I didn't mean to do that. I mean, I meant to get ahead of him and wreck him out, but I didn't mean to make him go out like that. It looked like it hurt like hell, and I winced as Ratchet and Gazzy both crawled from the bus, leaning against each other for support.

Shaking off my sorrow, I pushed on the gas again and zoomed down the track, comprehending that it was only Fang, Ari, and me left. I knew that was bad, since Fang wouldn't hurt me, but I also knew that I'd hurt him. I'd get him back for underestimating me and laughing at me.

Fang and Ari had just gone across the intersection before me, and I watched as they tried to dodge Ratchet's bus by ramping a hay bale, but when they landed the axle of the bus broke. As in, the two front tires started to pull away from each other and the bus wouldn't move. At all.

Immediately, I was worried and scared for Ari and Fang, afraid that they'd gotten hurt since that bus did land pretty hard, but then I saw them jump out of the emergency exit on the roof and race over to where the others were standing and Holden had parked Ratchet's truck.

And then a feeling of wonderment washed across me, reminding me that I was the only one left and that I'd won. I'd showed Fang and Iggy and Dylan that I, Maximum Ride, could race a freaking bus against them I win. Oh yes, I felt freaking awesome. And so I decided to do a victory lap like they do in NASCAR, but when I tried to let off the gas and slow down, I noticed that I couldn't.

And then I realized that the gas pedal was stuck, hung up against something, and that the brakes weren't working at all.

The pedal was stuck. The damn, freakin', shit-hole of a pedal was _stuck_! How the crap was I supposed to get it unstuck? It was pushed all the way against the floorboard, so trying to stick my feet underneath it and pry it up was out of the question.

Fear entered my brain, and was sent throughout my body. But I couldn't panic. I wouldn't allow myself because I really needed to be calm so I could think rationally and get myself out of this unfortunate predicament I was in.

I saw everyone standing on the metal dock-like thing, all waving and screaming at me to congratulate me on my victory and trying to make me slow down. But I couldn't, and as I neared them, I saw the confused looks dance across their faces as they watched me pass them.

"The pedal's stuck!" I screamed as I rolled by everyone, the bus trying to jerk itself from my control. Ella and Nudge both screamed, because they were weirdly softhearted like that, and the everyone else's eyes widened to the size of the freaking sun. In my review mirror, I saw Fang grab a fire extinguisher and him and Ari shoot out after me, running their complete fastest to catch up with the bus and jump on.

Ari grabbed ahold of the metal bar running upward into the bus and swung himself up, his feet landing with a loud _thud _as he jumped up so Fang could get in. Fang tossed the extinguisher for Ari to catch, then he jumped into the vehicle, using the same technique as Ari had.

I looked up at them expectantly, wanting to know what they were going to do to unhinge the freaking gas pedal.

"Your bus is on fire," Ari mused, looking behind him as Fang began to assault the flames with the extinguisher. The fire had steadily gotten closer, so now it was about ten feet behind me. I could easily feel the scorching heat as it licked my back.

"No shit," I replied angrily, annoyed that he was acting like a total dumbass. He saw Ratchet's bus explode, and he saw the flames attack the back of mine. "Now, quit acting like a dumbass and help me get this thing unstuck!"

My shrill scream alerted Fang that I still needed his help, and he immediately stopped dousing the fire so he could assist me. Ari was no help when it came to a situation like this one.

"Okay, okay," he said, rubbing my erect back to calm me down. "We need to get the pedal unstuck 'fore we collide with something." He was calm, cool, and collected – everything I _wasn't_ in this moment. I was way jealous of him; how can someone keep their cool in a situation like this?

"Uh, and how are we gonna do _that_?" Ari asked, scratching his head. He was always the clueless one out of us Ride kids. I think he was dropped on his head as a child; maybe that was why his hair was golden blonde when Ella and I had black and brown hair. Maybe he was adopted...

But before he could answer, I saw something that made my blood ice into a chilling liquid in my veins, making me gasp in fright.

Dylan's capsized bus approaching swiftly, and I noted that Dylan and Maya were still surrounding it, trying to jerk some things out before they left it. But I couldn't stop – the pedal was still jammed against the floor – and if they didn't move that'd be flattened into pancakes, like Fang's truck.

"Guys?" I hollered over the roar of the motor and flinging dirt; they looked at me, Fang leaning over the seat with his hand resting on my shoulder and Ari kneeling down beside me. "Bus, two o'clock."

Fang and Ari both saw the bus then, and they froze, as if they'd just crapped their pants. If it wouldn't have been me and my brother and Fang in here, I would've laughed. I would've died laughing, because their faces were priceless. But I was in here, with my two guys, and I couldn't force a word passed my lips except for several naughty curses.

"Jump!" Fang screamed, running down the stairs of the bus and throwing himself out. Fang pulled his legs in against his chest and wrapping his arms around them as he hit the ground and rolled. Ari screamed girlishly – which gave me something to blackmail him with – and then jumped out after Fang, pulling himself into a ball and rolling when he hit the ground.

And then it was just me, watching the bus as it came closer and wondering if those two dumbasses had a brain or not. But I had to jump, too, so I wouldn't crash into the bus. So I stood up and threw myself out the open door, landing the way Iggy had and cursing multiple times at my own stupidity because I hadn't gotten into a ball before I hit the ground.

I came to a stop and groaned loudly as I pushed myself up, hearing Ari and Fang as they ran at me, yelling and kicking up dirt. Ari came up to hug me from behind, the force of him slamming into me lifting me off the ground slightly, but instantly let go as Fang came up and hugged me from behind, picking me up and spinning me around as he pulled me impossibly closer to him. He was ecstatic that I was okay and that I'd won – he'd whispered both into my ear. And then he set me down, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist from behind, just as my bus crashed into Dylan's.

And then there were fireworks like it was the Fourth of July.

**I expect people to review this chapter! And if you've seen the movie I got this idea from, don't tell me in a review, hit me up with a PM so you won't ruin it for other people who ain't seen it. **

**Now, I'm gonna leave you alone and let you push that itty bitty button down there so you can review... ;)**

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	18. Chapter 18

_**READ:**_** Yeah, so I'm thinking about writing a fanfic (after I get done with this one!) about Max having to race illegally and Fang is the cop that's sent undercover to catch her. But that's not the whole plot; it's kinda sorta like ****The Fast and The Furious****, but not exactly. So, will any of y'all read it if I waste my time writing it?**

**_Responding to a Reviewer:_ Yes, all this happens in one night. It started at around 8 one night, and then continues on into that morning. So one night, but that's more than enough to have fun in the country!**

**Anyways, hope you liked the last chapter (even if you didn't review) because it was leading up to this one, and I have to say I actually like this one too. The plot and moral is really starting to unravel now, and before too long the story's gonna be over. I'll probably cry like a pussy. **

**Anywho's... Here We Go!**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

The powerful wind from the two buses barreling into one another and creating a vigorous explosion was enough to send Fang, Ari, and me all flying backward several feet. I did a few flips, eventually landing on my stomach and knocking the breath from my lungs. Ari landed off to my left, several feet in front of me, and Fang landed right next to me, somersaulting once before he was stopped by a wayward hay bale.

We all scrambled to our feet, stumbling toward one another before we were knocked down again. Then we turned, and saw as flames erupted from the two buses, the fire branching out till it found the gas tank, which only made the explosion even bigger and badder.

The blaze lighted up the entire track, the flames rising high into the sky to where it looked like it was about to consume the large, full moon into its raging inferno. The heat the fire was emitting was enough to make me cower down slightly, tucking myself into his side so the torrid flames wouldn't sear my face.

Colored pieces of metal, wood, and glass pummeled us hard, forcing us to kneel on the ground from the painful shocks of the objects connecting with out exposed bodies. Fang wrapped his arms around my head and pulled me against his chest, tucking my capped head under his chin so he could protect me as the bits and chunks of objects floated around us.

Wincing as I saw a large piece of the fender fly and strike Ari in the side, I turned my head just in time to see Dylan and Maya as they ran away from the exploding buses. Several sizable chunks landed around them – a few even colliding with them – and the only thought running through my mind was, _Maybe those hard hits will knock some sense into their jacked-up minds. _

I don't hold pity or remorse for people that betrayed me.

And then, after everything had fell and found its place among us, the flames calmed down and it was silent, other than the sound of sizzling metal and the paint melting from it. I pulled away from Fang and reached down to help Ari up as he rubbed a spot on his thigh where they fender hit him. _Ouch, that's gonna hurt in the morning... _Wait, it was the morning. Whatever.

"So..." Ari started, his voice thick and groggy with the sudden pain of being clobbered by metal. "What now?"

Before Fang could answer his stultified question, the others jumped down from the large aluminum plate they'd been standing on, and now were running to us at full-speed, screaming obscenities and other crazy words as they swiftly came upon us.

Ella, in a fury of tears and screams, tackled both Ari and me to the ground, throwing her full weight – which was barely one-twenty; she was almost the size of Angel – on us, tumbling upon us as we collapsed to the ground. Ari landed awkwardly underneath me, wrapping his arms around my legs and holding me as Ella wrapped her skinny arms around both of our necks, squeezing so hard I had trouble breathing.

She was blubbering unrecognizable words, like she was speaking some foreign language I'd never even heard of. "Oh my gosh, I'm so damn glad you're okay! That was stupid, what you two did! I can't believe it! And you threw Iggy out! And then there were flames, and explosions! I'm just so happy you're okay!" That's what she said, which normally would've taken the average person at least ten seconds to say, but she said it in a total of three, no pausing in between.

She was starting to turn into Nudge. And no, that was not a compliment on my sister's behalf.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mumbled, the tone of my voice sounding as if I was pushing a pillow to my face, and I stood up with the aid of Ella. Nudge ran over to us and threw her arms around Ari's neck, smashing her mouth against his, the fear and relief emitting from her in a rush of tears and loud exclamations.

Making a disgusted face at Ari and Nudge's amateur PDA, I closed my eyes and rubbed my head, massaging my temples in an attempt to reduce the pounding pressure and agony surging through my body. I felt dizzy, lightheaded, and started to stagger slightly to the left. I would've fallen, too, if Fang hadn't have caught me like the smooth player he was.

He swiftly pulled me against his chest, crushing me to him, nuzzling my neck. I wrapped my arms around his waist loosely, relaxing in his comforting embrace. "That was badass," Fang whispered into my ear, chuckling softly against earlobe, sending racking shivers coursing through me.

I nodded against his chest, breathing in his soothing scent of Axe and leather. "The explosion was too much, though," I said, thinking back to the rupturing blast of the buses colliding. At least I scared the hell out of Dylan and Maya. "It busted my eardrums, I think."

Fang's breathing deepened, becoming almost husky, and he nipped at my earlobe seductively, allowing his tongue to flicker across the tender flesh. I sighed, trembles swimming through me, pushing my body instinctively closer to his, wanting so much more than he was giving. Jeez, was I greedy.

He chuckled again, tickling my delicate skin, and whispered, just so I could hear him. "You like that, don't you?" Without realizing it, I nodded, the dizzying feeling I was experiencing only intensifying, and I reached up to let my nose skim his collarbone. "I could make it feel so much better."

I knew what he was talking about. I knew he was insinuating that he was willing to have sex with me, that all I needed to do was say the word. But that's the thing. I didn't want to do it yet. I knew that, if I simply gave myself to him tonight, he'd just take advantage of me and never think of me again. I couldn't stand that; it would damn near kill me. It hasn't even been five hours since I'd met him, but he already meant too much to me. I didn't want to settle for just being a booty call – I wanted the real thing, and I wanted it with Fang.

So I couldn't oblige to the tempting fantasy he was generating in my mind, and in soft rejection I placed my hands on his hard chest and shoved him away, aiming my face toward the ground because I didn't want him to see how badly I wanted him. And I didn't want to see how badly he wanted me.

"What?" he whispered softly under his breath, nudging my chin up with his calloused thumb, and I couldn't object to that. He wanted to see me, so he could decipher what I was thinking. But what if he didn't like what he saw?

I shrugged, my eyes meeting his, and smirked playfully at him. "Just not in the mood," I answered him, reaching out and grabbing his hand, studying my fingers as they twined themselves in with Fang's. It was crazy; our hands fit perfectly together, as if we were soul mates.

As if the spaces in between our fingers were created so we could fill them. Ugh, what was I now? A freakin' poet? Jeez.

Fang nodded, ignoring Iggy as he tried to get his attention. The hurtful and agitated glare Iggy threw at Fang was enough to make me let loose some tension, and I grinned wholly, aiming it at Ig.

"I won't make you do anything you don't wanna do, Max," Fang continued, rubbing my cheek with the back of his hand gently, tenderly, and I leaned into his touch entirely. "If you don't wanna have sex, we won't. Simple as that."

But it wasn't as simple as that. I wanted to – I really, truly, honestly did – but not right now. I was afraid that after Fang got what he wanted from me, he'd leave me alone. Just as Dylan had, but he'd cheated on me with that skank-bag Maya. There was no comparison between Dylan and Fang in that department. Dylan cheated; I found them, and was so pissed I almost broke his nose. If Fang left, I might have to take after him with a gun. He already meant that much to me.

I smiled warmly up at him in appreciation, taking a step backward so I be persuaded into his intoxicating embrace. "Thanks, Fang," I said quietly, all the other screams and yells drowning out my wimpy reply.

Holden came up and slung his arm lazily across my shoulders, his drunken weight oppressing down on me. I could smell the sickening scent of alcohol wafting from him, seemingly endless as if it were streaming from his pores. That disgusting stench and his annoying arm on me was enough to make me agitated again, and I stomped on his sneakered foot so he would get the hell off me.

"Ouch!" Holden hollered, hopping away from me while clutching at his foot painfully. Whoops, I forgot that I had boots on. Oh well, he deserved it for all the crap he has ever and will ever do to me.

I rolled my eyes at his childishness, looking directly at Fang with a hint of amusement and challenge clouding in my eyes. "So, what now?" I asked for everybody, because I knew they were as eager as I was to get away from the wreckage of the exploding buses.

Fang thought pensively for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip without realizing how alluring that action was, and then smirked at us all. "Ever been huntin' before?"

* * *

><p>After making a quick stop back at Fang's place to grab a few guns, we all piled in Ratchet's Silverado and headed to a giant patch of woods on the outskirts of the town. There was a narrow dirt road leading into the woods, with small branches of briars and limbs hanging out in the way.<p>

Holden actually got smacked in the face by a tree limb because he wasn't paying attention and griping at Kate – they've been doing that constantly, ever since the incident at the bar with Roland and his girlfriend – and so the attenuated branch smacked the hell out of the side of his face. It left deep welts marking his face, with a broad trail of blood coursing down his cheek. I laughed so hard I almost fell off the side of the truck, but Fang caught me before I did.

Fang had supplied me with a gun, giving me his Browning Medallion 2506 A-Bolt, with strict orders for me to guard it with my life because it was his 'baby.' Apparently, it'd taken him six years to save up enough money from hauling hay, firewood, and working in his friend's Dad's mechanic shop to buy the 2506 and the specialized, black plastic case it came in with a landscape picture of a deer in woods covering it.

In short, it was a pretty badass gun. I was totally jealous of him, and I didn't even like hunting. Except for snipe hunting... Good memories there.

Ratchet pulled the truck to a stop, slamming on his brakes unnecessarily, which sent all of us in the back rushing forward. Fang – thankfully – grabbed ahold of me around the waist, pulling me against him so I wouldn't crash into the back glass.

But Iggy wasn't so fortunate; the crown of his strawberry blonde head cannoned into the glass, leaving a large busted area as he slunk to the ground, cursing Ratchet mercilessly as he rubbed his head.

I'd fallen on the bed, Fang landing heavily on top of me, and my chin connected with the hard metal. I swore under my breath, pushing myself up on my hands so I could make sure that Ari and Ella were relatively alright.

Ari had been sitting on the tailgate, and he'd fallen off, face-planting on the hard ground. Ella, who'd been cuddling up with Iggy to keep the biting cold from sinking into her bones, had followed Iggy when he'd hit the back glass, but his butt stopped her before she could smash into anything.

Fang got off me finally, leaning back against the truck as he readjusted his hat, and I shakily got to my knees, peering over the side. What I saw cracked me up so bad, I almost peed my britches. Maya and Dylan had been slung off the side, and now they were laying in a messy heap of entangled limbs and ripped clothing.

I laughed loudly, my anger at Ratchet dissipating, and my hearty guffaws outlawed any other noises and sounds the others made. What can I say? Seeing the pain of my ex and his trashy new chick was enough to make me pee myself with hilarity.

Ratchet opened the door and stepped out of the truck, mirth causing his shoulders to shake heavily, and he pointed at Iggy. "Dumbass, you know you gotta hold on when I'm drivin'!" he hollered at Iggy as he picked himself up off the bed, aiding Ella as she reached her hand up. Can we say damsel in distress? My sister was such a romantic.

Iggy sighed and rolled his sky blue eyes. "Haha, real funny, asshole," he retorted, flipping Ratchet the bird. "So, how much money you think it'll take to fix the glass?"

Ratchet immediately sobered, walking around so he could peer at the busted glass. When his swampy green eyes landed on the glass, illuminated by the red light above it, I thought he was going to have a heart attack, spazzing out so terribly he couldn't get a word to slip passed his lips that was comprehensible.

I slapped my head across my mouth in an attempt to stop the chuckles from escaping, and jumped off the back of the truck, Fang already down and waiting on me. I knew I shouldn't be laughing; this truck was obviously cherished by Ratchet, but his shocked and angry face was just so damn funny. Fang was having as hard a time as I was with trying to keep his snickering unnoticeable.

The 2506 had been strategically laid in the backseat of the truck, because Fang didn't trust me to hold it while we were racing down the highway at speeds you've never even imagined. As I slunk passed Ratchet while Star was trying to console his vexation with smothering kisses all over his face, I couldn't help but feel a little excited flutter of enthusiasm come to life in my chest, making me giddy and lightheaded.

I'd never been hunting before, other than that one time I went with Dad into Arkansas to hunt a turkey for Thanksgiving. We ended up going to buy a turkey from the store because, apparently, you were suppose to be quiet when you were hunting. And I had my phone turned up the whole way, and Dylan called, which started blasting Eminem's song 'Lose Yourself.' I ran all the nearby turkeys off.

I opened the door and grabbed the gun, carefully hefting it up and over my shoulder, making sure the safety was on because I didn't want to shoot anyone in the head by accident. I walked back around the truck where everyone was gathering, studying the other guns and making sure they were loaded with the right kind of bullets. I sighed and sat on the tailgate, watching everyone.

Fang sat next to me and grabbed my hand, pulling behind us so no one would see. I sighed again, leaning my weary head against his rock-hard shoulder, trying to get comfortable even though I knew relaxation was completely out of my reach.

"Ready?" he whispered, caressing my hand, making me want to lose myself in the indescribable sensations he was creating inside me.

I nodded, closing my eyes. I felt a sudden sleepiness wash over me, and I cuddled up against Fang's side, breathing in his inviting scent. If only I could take a short nap about now... But then Fang ruined my fantasy with his untimely declaration.

"Then get your ass over there and make me proud," he said, pushing me away and off the truck. I stumbled a bit, my eyes flashing open, and I saw everyone kneeling on the ground, their guns pointed out in front of them as they stared down the barrel.

I saw a space in between Ari and Maya – she was pretty far away – and jogged toward it, skidding on my feet and dropping to my knees as I came to a stop, pulling the gun up and readying it. Fang came up behind me, chuckling softly at my display of embarrassment and I flipped him the bird over my shoulder.

That only made him laugh harder. Butt head.

I rolled my eyes at him, looking down the scope and out over the landscape that suddenly came into my view. I ran my eyes across everything a few times, my impatient nature getting the best of me in a few minutes. Several more moments passed, and the only thing you could hear besides our deep breathing was the sound of a whippoorwill in the distance.

My legs were starting to hurt from kneeling, and the gun was much heavier than one would've thought. My anger and impatience was rising, threatening to overthrow my serene contentment, but then Ari screamed something that made us all jump out of our skin in excitement.

"I think I see a deer!" Ari yelled from beside me, his excitement causing him to jump and knock me over from my kneeling position on the ground. I glared up at him, letting the loaded gun fall to rest on my knee before I was tempted to use it on the _creature _I called my little brother.

"Shut up!" Iggy snapped, slapping Ari upside the head. Was I supposed to get all offensive with Iggy harming my little bro? Oh well, I didn't care. He deserved whatever he received. "You're gonna run the deer off, dumbass!"

I smirked smugly at Ari and stood, pulling the gun back up and positioning it against my shoulders. If anyone was going to kill that deer, it was going to be me. I was hell-bent on making that fantasy come true.

Fang was standing behind me, his hands resting softly on my waist, looking over my shoulder and down the scope as I was. His fingers, still remaining with their gently firm grip, began forming miniscule circles that made me shiver with delight and heat. I shivered against him, leaning back into his heated body.

And then I remembered that we were hunting, and my competitive streak was pronounced. If anyone was going to bag that deer, it was going to be me. Not my special little brother; not Iggy the weirdo; not Maya the skank. It was going to be me, Maximum – freaking! – Ride.

It was time to be a hellion.

_Oh no, you don't, _I thought, reaching my leg out and kicking the back of Ari's knee in, watching delightedly as he fell to the ground, his legs buckling from my sudden kick. He dropped the gun, and it slid under the truck, just out of his reach. He looked accusingly up at me, and I returned his cold glare with a devious grin.

Time to take Iggy out.

I found a rock, reached down, grabbed it, and chunked it at him. The rock bounced off his head, landing hard on the ground, and he started cussing up a storm, bringing his gun down and rubbing his head. He had no clue what'd hit him; was I sneaky or what?

And last, the skank, Maya. I knew the perfect way to distract her.

I turned around and stood on tiptoe, smashing my lips hungrily against Fang's. He was caught off guard for a moment, but then he understood and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me upward so he could get a better angle. I so wanted to lose myself in his kiss, but I was making a point, and I couldn't afford to lose my focus.

So I pulled back, flashing a glance at Maya as I backed out of his arms. She was glaring enviously at me, her gun resting against her thigh, and I realized she still had feelings for Fang. Oh well, he was _mine_ now. In retaliation, I licked my lips profoundly and smirked knowingly at her. She became very angry, the fact that I was showing myself ticking her the hell off, and she threw the gun down, marching off.

Jeez, I loved getting the best of people. And I never said I played fair.

With all them out of the competition, I raised my gun back up and looked studiously through the scope. I caught sight of a tawny colored animal, with a white tail and large, sixteen-point horns. _Boo-yah!_

I laughed excitedly and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "I see the deer! And it's a buck!"

"Shoot it!" Everyone was exclaiming around me, their high and demanding voices flooding into my brain and clouding up my mind, destroying any thoughts I happened to create while I was aiming the gun at the deer. I swear, if they got any louder, I'd turn on them and point this gun at _them. _There was no friggin' way they were going to ruin my chances at bagging a deer.

And then Fang whispered encouragingly in my ear. "Shoot it, Max." His voice was light and hot, fluffing the hair next to my nape, and I shivered at the feel of his steaming breath skimming the side of my face.

I couldn't help it; Fang's voice, whispering sweetly in my ear, was enough to make me pull back on the trigger. But, sadly, I didn't count on the gun to kick like a mule, and the force from it sent me sprawling backward, dropping the gun and falling to the ground. I landed on my butt hard, so hard I winced audibly in pain and swore colorful under my breath.

But the force of the gun pushing against me was enough for me to lose my aim, and instead of hitting the buck I'd seen, the bullet came in sheer contact with something large and white, with swirling crimson letters illustrated on it. I strained my eyes to see what I'd hit – a 50 gallon propane tank, by the looks of it – and then everything was blown all to hell.

Then there was another explosion, the second one in barely an hour.

The propane tank went off like a nuclear bomb; it was sent flying high into the air, propelled by the eruption of flames and fire from beneath it. The shockwave from it was hard, strong, and hot, reaching us within seconds and sending us flying backward, soaring through the air and screaming our asses off, eventually being stopped in our forward progress by a clutter of trees.

Confusion and bewilderment coursed through my mind – what the hell had just happened and what was going on now? I heard shocked and frightened yells come from everyone, and I couldn't stop a shrill scream from escaping my lips, adding to the thunderously booming noise in the quiet woods.

My back connected with an aging cedar, disregarding and inching into my T-shirt to rip little itsy-bitsy gashes in my skin that stung like hell from the sap seeping from the tree. I screamed several ragged curses, my voice being drowned out from all the other yells and screams coming from everyone, and I couldn't help the groan of pain that exited my mouth when I hit the ground, landing on my side with a sickening slam.

I rolled over onto my stomach, curling up in a tiny ball, wanting so desperately for the pain to leave my side and praying that I wouldn't be unlucky enough to have someone land on me. Several others landed when I had, and all I heard other than the screaming pain making my ears fuzzy was violent swearing and unmentionable words directed toward me.

As if all this was _my_ fault. Them accusing bastards. _They_ were the ones who made me freaking shoot. It wasn't _my_ fault the gun kicked so hard I missed my intended target and exploded a propane tank. That was all _Fang_. So, if they wanted anyone to blame, they should condemn the boy laying right beside me, swearing under his breath as he staggered to a sitting position.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice thick with unvoiced pain and anger. His dark eyes washed over my face, taking in all the dirt and dried blood from my scratch. He sighed and reached out to me, and I came into his arms willingly, the whole world suddenly seeming as if it were too much for me to bear.

I nodded in answer. "Other than the fact I just blew up a freakin' propane tank and was thrown clear across the road, I'm just peachy," I said into his black shirt, letting my lips graze the fabric, relishing in his shudder of pleasure as he felt it. "What about you?"

Fang huffed a heavy breath, pushing me back so he could look directly into my eyes. "I've been better," he drawled out, trying to sound annoyed and agitated, but ruined it by giving me a heartwarming smirk that sent my mind reeling.

I grinned back at him, the gut-splintering pain in my side momentarily forgotten, and welcomed Fang's long awaited kiss as he touched his lips to mine. I sighed, arching my body into his wantonly, reaching up and winding my arms around his neck demandingly. He obliged happily, his searing hot tongue darting into my opened mouth to taste me.

He tasted good, like Busch Light and alluring barbeque – a weird combination of flavor, but it was delicious nonetheless. I wondered where he'd gotten the BBQ, and pulled back to ask him just as I was bombarded with questions and angry exclamations.

"So, you two are just gonna screw 'cause she blew up a propane tank?"

"What the hell were you thinkin'? It ain't hard to see somethin' that damn big!"

"Dude, I think my back is broken!"

"Does insurance cover you if you've got a stick jammed up your ass?"

"That was friggin' _wicked_! Two explosions in one night? Damn!"

"I think I can see my imprint on that tree..."

"I shit my pants!"

Before anyone else could scream out anything, Fang shut them up. And rather nicely, might I add.

"Shut the hell up and quit blamin' her," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear, silencing them right as they started to protest. "It's our fault. She don't know how to hunt, and we shoulda told her that there was a propane tank around here. I shoulda told her the gun kicked. So don't go pointin' no fingers till you got it all straight."

I was grateful for Fang for standing up for me and telling everyone how it was, and was about to express my gratitude in a lingering kiss for him, but then ole John Law decided to make an unwanted appearance.

"What's goin' on here?"

Shocked, I pulled away from Fang, my eyes wide and my mouth agape. The others mirrored my posture to a T, horror and fright riddling their features. Fang, always the rock that never let anything get to him, turned around in my loose embrace, glaring at the police officers in total rage.

"What can I do for you, officers?" Fang asked coldly, acid dripping from his sexy monotone. I could tell he was pissed; it was as obvious as the sky was blue and the grass was green. I took a step back, colliding with the Gasman, and he steadied me, pushing me behind him as if to protect me.

The officer with the gray hair and blue eyes sighed exasperatedly, pointing a meaty finger at us all. "First, you can start with answerin' our question," he retorted, infuriated beyond belief at Fang's temper and attitude.

Fang smirked, letting his bad mood consume him and willingly force him into a fit of fury. "We're just drivin' around and hangin' out," Fang explained lamely, and I giggled from where I was behind Gazzy.

The other officer, who had orange hair and brown eyes, heard my almost silent laughter and called me out on it. That asshole.

"What's so funny, missy?" he asked rudely, silencing anyone who was about to talk. His deep, beady eyes were staring into mine, and I resisted the urge to flip him the bird as I had done to people so many times tonight. That little action wouldn't put me on the right side of the law.

I sighed, running over every sarcastic response I knew, and couldn't come up with one. Time to resort to drastic measures: Insults. I was extraordinarily good at those.

"The way your mama dressed you," I said, motioning to his ragged and ripped jeans, oil-stained T-shirt, and flaking leather cowboy boots. It wasn't really all that bad – perfect attire for someone who lived around here – but the city-slicker came out in me and it was hard to contain.

The cop got angry, his temper flaring, rising to the point where I expected steam to start rolling from his hairy ears, and he took several threatening steps toward me. "You better watch what you say, kiddie, 'cause I have the right to throw your little ass in the pen."

I smirked at him, walking up to stand beside Fang, crossing my arms rebelliously. "You think that scares me?" I replied, my voice implying that I wasn't intimidated by his wimpy statement. "I'll be fifty yards in front of you by the time you blink." It wasn't exactly a lie; I was pretty damn fast.

The other cop huffed, puffing his chest out proudly. Whatever. "You're on thin ice," he warned, but I paid no mind.

"Whatcha gonna do?" I asked teasingly, smirking widely at their anger. "Taser me to death? Puh-leaze."

He cursed colorfully, anger rippling throughout his body. I only felt more excited and satisfied that I'd gotten under his skin. I was good at doing that to people. It was an evil gift I brandished pridefully.

But then the cops looked at each other, and the wicked smile they shared was enough to make me quake in my boots. I'd done something, and it wasn't good.

"No, You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to a lawyer. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

Shit.

**Ruh oh! They's in some serious duty!**

**This may seem odd, but I actually love Eminem's song Lose Yourself. My crush told me he listens to it before every game, so I tried it out and it actually pumps you up. So that's the story for that!**

**Guys, guess what! We've reached over 200 reviews! Sorry if that's not a lot, but that's a friggin' shit load to me! Thanks so much, for all y'all who reviewed to help get us to that level. So, now I have a proposition: Can we get to 350 reviews before the story ends?**

**Don't forget to REVIEW!**

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	19. Chapter 19

**I know y'all loved that last chapter, because it was leading up to this bad bitch! Sorry for my French (I should be a French interpreter). **

**I have some terrible news; it'll be at the end. Well, it might not be terrible to you, but I am seriously contemplating running away. Oh, and I think this chapter will be on the long side...**

**Well, I am officially 14! But – sadly – a lot of my friends forgot... I didn't remind them either. But hey.. I found what I want for my 16TH birthday: (I'm already supposed to get our Silverado to drive) A 30.06 Browning gun... Saw it at the pawnshop and fell in love like a fat kid and chocolate. **

**Enough about ME... hErE wE gO!**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

After the officers said that little speech simultaneously, the only thing you saw was fourteen kids high-tail it the hell out of there.

"Truck!" Ratchet yelled above all of our shouts and curses, jumping on the hood and sliding like Bo Duke. He didn't place his feet right as he landed, and instead of coming to rest standing up, he face-planted right on the ground. Funny crap.

I laughed, even though fear and fright were coursing through my body, threatening to overthrow my calm exterior. It was either laugh, scream, or cry to release the tension building up and circulating inside me. So I picked the obvious choice, as you can see. Or read.

"Shotgun!" Star yelled, jerking the door open and hopping in. But before she could slam the door, Kate dove in and landed on her lap, scrambling to get over the seat as Holden rushed in through the open door.

Fang had grabbed me by the hand, and now was jerking me toward the bed of the truck, right where Iggy was boosting Ella up. I saw that the tailgate was down, but too many people were trying to climb up on it, so Fang and I simply ran up the side. We put our feet on the tire and pushed up, slapping our hands on the side and gripping it, pulling ourselves over and into the bed.

I landed oddly, my face pressing into the cold, hard metal of the bed and my legs sticking halfway up in the air. Fang didn't look much better, from what I could see out of the corner of my eye.

Groaning and cursing Nudge because she stepped on my fingers, stomping them to death, I slowly rose into a sitting position, swinging my legs into the truck. I looked down and saw Fang, struggling to untangle his legs, and I offered him a hand as I grappled for a solid standing position.

But, right as my feet were planted firmly and I was hefting Fang up, Ratchet decided to start the truck and gun it, pushing the gas pedal to the floor. We were all sent flying backwards, being propelled by the sudden force of Ratchet's truck roaring down the road at unimaginable speeds.

My feet slipped out from under me and I fell back, my spine coming in bitter contact with the hump, and I let a loud scream in pain _and_ fear. Pain, because my back was killing me. Fear, because my head and shoulders were hanging off the end of the tailgate as the truck crashed and rumbled down the dirt road.

My eyes wide, I saw the cops as they turned the ignition and peeled out of the small flat we'd been hunting on. From where I was hanging, I could easily make out their faces, and I saw them both reach for their CB radio, bringing the talkie to their mouths and shouting incoherent words into it. I had the sudden urge to flip them off, but suppressed it as I had before.

I felt myself starting to slip off, and I instinctively hung my arms down so I could possibly soften my landing when I fell. It didn't help that we were angling our way up a hill, either. Even though it was small.

Gliding ever closer to the edge where I'd fall off and become a Max Patty on the ground, I reached up and groped for anything I could possibly grip with my cramping fingers. I found someone's boot, and grabbed onto it as I slid even further off, my chest and ribs now dangling a few inches from the ground.

I hoped Ratchet didn't suddenly run over a stick, because that'd suck major, hairy balls if he did.

But then I felt someone's hands slide around my waist and clasp my midriff in an unbreakable clutch, keeping me from skidding further off. Then someone's fingers were sliding into the belt loops of my jeans, and whoever it was started pulling me back into the truck slowly, inch by agonizing inch.

Finally – after several excruciating moments of being hauled up – I was laying on my back in the middle of the truck, breathing hard, my heartbeat racking my body so hard I was trembling. I swear I looked like a fish, gasping for breath on the bed of the truck; not a very pleasant picture. And then Fang's arms, muscled and firm with so much gentleness, were around me, pulling me to his chest.

I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, pressing my face into the crook of his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Everyone around me were screaming – either at Ratchet, at each other, or at the police officers slowly but surely gaining on us – but in Fang's arms, everything seemed to just melt away.

I knew I'd have to pull back eventually, and so I wanted to make the best of my limited amount of time in Fang's sweetly solicitous embrace. I pulled my face away from his neck, gazed into his worried eyes for a moment, and then smashed my lips against his.

Several people let a loud and obnoxious groans at our PDA, but I didn't care. I'd nearly been sent headfirst off a truck, and I wanted to celebrate my good fortune with Fang, because he was one of the reasons I was in this truck still and not on the ground.

I sighed against his lips, my body melting and molding itself against his as he pulled me closer, into the cradle of his lap. I ran my hands through his hair, realizing that he'd lost his hat when the tank had exploded, and this was the first time I'd actually been able to run the silky-soft tresses through my deprived fingers.

But then, before either of us had a chance to deepen what I'd started, Ratchet slammed on the brakes, throwing us all forward, against the back glass. I was wrenched from Fang's tender hold on me, and I flew into the back glass, my knees coming in contact with Iggy's head.

Maya was thrown at my feet, her head bouncing against the hard metal of the truck, and I offered my hand down to her to pull her up before she could be squashed by anyone. Wow, I was the little helper today, wasn't I?

Maya was weary about grasping my hand, glaring up at me as blood trickled down the side of her face, but in the end she took it and I pulled her up. Blood was oozing from a small gash on the side of her head, and I didn't want to get her contaminated plasma all over me, so I ripped a small piece of fabric from my shirt and offered it to her.

She took it tiredly without question, pressing the cloth against her head. I let her sink slowly back to the ground, being sure that she was pushed up against the side so she wouldn't get jostled around too much.

Then we were stopped. As in, completely. We were no longer _moving_. Which was bad, considering there were two cops trailing us closely from behind.

Confused as to why Ratchet had stopped, I turned my head around and forced my eyes to focus so I could see what was in front of us. Sadly, the flashing bright lights, red and blue, blinded me once again, and I didn't even have enough time to fathom that we'd hit a block in the road before I was jerked violently from the back of the truck, big, meaty hands wrapping around my slim waist and yanking.

I was thrown down against the impenetrable ground, my head bouncing off the solidness. My breath left my lungs with a _whoosh_, and I started gasping to get oxygen flowing through my body once more. My eyes were wide – impossibly wide – and I was trying to take everything in that was surrounding me, but the only thing I saw was black and white dots clouding my vision.

Thank you, jackass, for making me friggin' _blind_!

If you've ever been tugged off of something before, then you know that persistent fear and adrenaline that flared in your body, sending you into a state close to shock.

To say in the least, I freaked the hell out. I even screamed. Several other people were thrown down next to me, several screaming at me or at other people,

A block that was formed by Dodge Chargers, painted white and black, with a few individual colors spelling out words. In case you don't know what that is, it was a cop car I'm attempting to describe.

Yes, we were being surrounded by cop cars. They'd set up a blockade on in the middle of the road, prohibiting Ratchet from going any further. And, now that Ratchet had stopped, the officers were jerking everyone out of the truck. Willing or not.

Ella landed beside, groaning and screaming, and Ari was slung down on the opposite side. We all three looked at each other, not knowing what to do or what to say, and instead simply smiled halfheartedly at one another.

Then we were grabbed by the collar's of our shirts, and yanked upward.

"Yo, this is _designer_!" Ella hollered, resisting as the officer snatched her hands behind her back.

"Do you _want_ to dislocate my _shoulder_?" Ari screamed at his restrainer, kicking and thrashing in a feeble attempt to get loose.

"_Let them go_!" I screeched as loud as I could, kicking my feet up as they officer pulled me away from them.

Then the officer's started pulling us in different directions, Ella and Ari being snatched away from my sight as I rounded the corner and was then granted the picture of watching everyone else as they struggled with their restraints.

Iggy and Holden were trying to get loose so they could help Kate as she was dragged, tears falling unnoticed from her eyes, but to no avail. The grip on their arms was just too strong for them to break.

Star and Ratchet were holding hands, screaming and yelling out each other, and then they were finally jerked apart, both being heaved relentlessly away from each other. I thought I saw a glinting strip of liquid slip down her cheek, but I wasn't sure. But I did know that it wasn't right, what they cops were doing. They'd just ripped apart two soul mates.

My eyes watering from the firm grip the officer had on me, I spotted Fang out of blurry eyes. He was kicking and screaming, trying to get loose, hollering at the officer in an effort to force them to release him. I looked closer, reading his lips because my ears were clouded from all the other screams, and saw that it was me he was calling for.

But then I saw Nudge and Angel being grabbed up off the ground and jerked together, cuffs being slapped on their wrists as they were pulled toward the cruisers. My heart started to hurt irrevocably, and I tried my best to get to them. But I couldn't.

Tears started to pour down both their faces, and I watched, uselessly, as they pleaded to be let go. But they cops wouldn't listen, wouldn't take mercy on two young kids. They were heartless assholes, and they'd pay dearly.

And then the Gasman caught sight of what was happening.

"Angel!" Gazzy was yelling as he was being jerked away from his sister forcefully, the cops dragging his kicking body down to a squad car. I looked closely, and saw a wet streak cascading down his cheek, and then realized he was crying. For his sister. He couldn't stand to see her taken away, ripped from his arms.

I knew how that felt like, because both of my younger siblings were being ripped away, Nudge too. Just like Angel was.

"Let me go!" I screamed as loudly as I could, throwing my legs up in the air, trying to knock the officer off balance. Didn't work. I was still being hauled away against my will, watching helplessly as Ari and Ella were shoved into the same car; Nudge and Angel got the one behind.

And then the cop cars pulled off. _Just like that._ No warning, no loud screech of a siren – nothing. They just revved up the engine, and rushed away with my younger siblings, my underage charge, and the sweet girl I'd just met.

It felt like my heart had just been ripped out, and was running after the car, trying to make it stop, turn back around, and bring them back to me. But that was stupid; I've watched too many Saturday morning cartoons. It was a foolish fantasy – it wasn't like it was going to happen.

I'd have to make it come true by myself.

From beside me, where they were both being restrained, Fang and Ratchet started fighting the officers, spinning around in the tight clutch the cops had them in. Ratchet threw a solid punch at Fang's cop, while Fang barreled into Ratchet's, sticking his head hard in the dude's stomach. The cop went down instantaneously, taking Fang with him.

Fang looked up at me where I was being drug to a squad car and stuck his long leg out and tripped the officer that was restraining me. He fell backward, taking me with him. We landed hard, me on top of him, and his breath left him with a _whoosh. _Now, that stuff stunk.

His grip on me loosened enough for me to be able to twist myself from his grasp, and I rolled on the ground sideways to get as far away from his as possible. He was twitching pathetically on the ground, trying to regain back his stinky breath, and before he could grab me again, I jumped up and ran over to where Star was being thrown into a squad car.

"Go help out the others!" Fang screamed after me as I ran, seemingly reading my mind and detecting my intentions. He knew I was going to get as many people loose as I possibly could.

I tapped impatiently on the cop's shoulder, waiting for him to turn around an face me so I could put my plan into action. "Yo, pick on someone your own size," I said, once the officer was facing me. He gave me an odd, with which I returned with an immoral smirk.

And then I pulled my fist back and let it go, punching the officer right smack-dab in his tiny eye socket. It wasn't hard to hit a nose; what was really difficult was aiming your fist just right and letting it fly at the right time so it would hit the eye. Fortunately, I was a pro at hitting people in the eyes.

And I was really getting tired of breaking people's noses tonight.

He let Star go immediately, and Star gave me a quick fist-bump before she ran off to aid Ratchet and Fang as they fought maliciously with several police officers. Sighing, I looked down at the convulsing cop at my feet. I didn't feel no pity or remorse for him; he got what he deserved.

I took off, angling my way toward Holden. He was being pushed forcefully against the hood of a Charger, and two cops were behind him trying to cuff his hands. I made a quick snap-second decision and jumped on one cop's back – just as I had Johnny's – and I started assailing the other officer as Holden jerked loose to relieve me from harming the guy's backbone.

Holden was good; he'd go and get Kate out. Star had ran over to aid Ratchet and Fang; they could handle those cops by themselves. Dylan and Maya had taken out each other's cops, and were now running around helping everyone. All that left was Iggy and the Gasman.

I saw Gazzy, and spotted Iggy trying to get him free. But he couldn't because two cops had ganged up on him and he went down under flailing fists and kicking feet.

Knowing my assistance was needed, I ran over to the Gasman and grabbed his feet, jerking him free from the cop's hold. He fell to the ground, spiraling away from the officer.

I grinned at the cop's surprised face, stretching out my arms and shoving him back onto the ground. He fell hard, and I left him before he could attempt to grab my boot. I tugged Gazzy up, and we both started running for Ratchet's truck, our hands still intertwined and our heels kicking up dusty filth.

And then we were both in the back on Ratchet's truck, throwing ourselves in and shutting it before he stormed off. Fang found me and grabbed my shirt, yanking me willing into his arms. When we were all in a relatively comfortable position, Ratchet punched on the gas and we took off.

We shot out of there like a bullet from a gun, a flip of a switch, a thief on the run, a crack of lightning in the distance. And then we were going fast – so fast – down the dirt road again.

Fear and sudden understanding erupted in my body. We were outrunning the cops down a narrow dirt road on a small mountain, riding in the back of Ratchet's Silverado HD, most of us minors who'd been bending the rules and breaking the law all night.

I should've been scared – hell, I should've been frightened to death, afraid I'd either be caught and thrown into jail and my parents had to come get me, or that Ratchet might lose control of the truck since it was going at indescribable speeds and barrel off into the woods outlining the road, injuring me.

But I wasn't scared, not really. The only thing I could actually feel was the adrenaline running rapidly throughout my body, and Fang's warm, soft hand gripping mine, trying to keep my mind from going totally crazy.

Fang was like my rock, like my solid object that I could hold onto when everything around me was falling apart. Like now. My younger brother and sister had just been arrested by the police, along with my longtime friend Nudge and this angelic sweetheart I'd only just met. Fang was the one person helping me keep my hold on reality as Ratchet bounced and rattled down the dirt road, pulling slightly ahead of the cops.

We bumped and crashed down the dirt road, and it seemed as if Ratchet were trying his damnedest to hit every freaking eroded hole in the road. But none of that mattered other than the fact that this road was our ticket away from the cops and out of the clutches of the juvenile prison and jail. We still had to make it down the road in one piece, though.

Of course, none of that was possible if we didn't have a full tank of gasoline.

"Shit, I'm about outta gas!" Ratchet yelled high above all our screams and yells and the sirens. From where I was in the bed of the truck, I could peer through the glass to see all the gages. And he wasn't lying.

"What the hell!" Fang retorted, leaning over the side of the truck so he could get a better view of Ratchet. I know this isn't the best time, but I haven't mentioned how hot and sexy Fang was lately. He looked even better with the wind tugging at his black locks and an angry expression on his face. I shook my head to get rid of all those tempting thoughts. "Didn't you fill up earlier?"

Ratchet sighed lividly, jerking the wheel to the right, sending us all flying to the left, and then we were charging down an old back road, going speeds I wouldn't' have thought were possible till tonight.

"I did!" he screamed back at Fang, punching the gas so we accelerated far ahead of the dozens of squad cars following us. "But it's all drained out 'cause your crazy-ass wants to show off for that city-slicker!"

Was he talking about _moi_? Did he suddenly have a brain fart; _he_ was the one outrunning cops like a dumbass! He could go to hell for all I cared, and I hope takes that whiny fiance of his.

I swear, if Fang hadn't have been in the back with me, him and Ratchet would've been having a beat-down fight. Something told me it wouldn't be the first between them.

"Go to that old place by the river!" Iggy suggested, standing up and banging on the hood to get Ratchet's attention. "That old house that Mr. Mellon lived in till he died last year. You know the one."

The Gasman snorted unpleasantly, holding onto the large antenna to keep his balance as Ratchet bounced over a pothole. "Nobody ain't lived in that place in over a year, dummy!" he yelled at Iggy, reaching over to slap him upside the head.

Maya tried to stand up, but her boots were slipping on the metal of the bed and she was thrown down painfully when Ratchet jerked the wheel again. I laughed, holding onto the side to keep from falling myself.

"We don't even know if that thing'll hold us all!" she screamed loudly, trying to make herself heard over the roaring wind as we tore down the dirt road. Ratchet – apparently trying to hit every friggin' hole on the whole damn road – thumped into an aperture, and that sent the truck spiraling out of control.

We were all sent flying to the left, having to grab onto each other and the side of the truck to keep from falling out and over. My side connected with the aluminum trim of the truck, and I sucked in a sharp breath, trying to turn off the intolerable suffering. Fang wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me against his side so I wouldn't be attacked or have anyone crash into me.

Dylan landed beside me, his entire upper body flying over the side, and I grabbed his belt loops before he could fall completely out. Sure, Dylan was my ex and I'd caught him cheating on me with that skank-bag Maya – who was currently fighting with the Gasman at my feet as they tried to disentangle themselves from each other – but I'd never wish him to fall out of a moving vehicle. I'd never wish that on anybody.

Okay, that's a lie. I'd wish it on Lissa, that chick who attacked me and scratched my face. And probably Sam Waylons, since he tried to take my sister from me. Those two were the only exceptions, though.

Dylan looked up at me, his turquoise eyes wide with shock and fright. "Gimme your hand!" I screamed at him, reaching my hand down to his. He looked at me questioningly, suspiciously, and finally grabbed my hand after a moment of thinking. I gripped his wrist in a stout hold, using all the strength I had in that arm to pull him up while bracing myself with my other arm.

Did you know that, when the temperature gets below the dew point, water will condense on objects? I knew that, but I didn't actually take that into considering when I offered Dylan, the ambassador of Assholeland, my assistance.

The hand I had on the side of the truck slipped, and I was pulled over the edge, my upper body smashing against Dylan's painfully. "Shit!" and "Damn, your ribs are hard!" were only two phrases that Dylan and I were screaming at each other as we dangled over the side of the truck as Ratchet zoomed down the road.

I turned my head sideways, straining to see the flashing red and blue lights that were following after us relentlessly. I tried to count how many flashes I could see, and the number I wound up with was so unbelievable that I, myself, didn't even believe it. "Hot damn!" I screamed, pointing the lights out to Dylan, who was still cursing at me.

"Not again!" I heard Fang groan from beside me, reached down and scooping me up by using my underarms. And that _hurt_; I had fragile skin on my pits. "Yo, Ig! Pull Dylan back up!" he ordered a semiconscious Iggy, who was laying against the front of the truck in an odd position.

Fang jerked me up and pulled me against his chest, tucking my head under his chin as Ratchet rumbled on down the road. Dylan was yanked up beside me, flying through the air and landing on the other side of the truck. I looked over at him from where I was being held snuggly in Fang's arms, and tried to decrypt the odd look Dylan presented me with.

But I couldn't understand what he was meaning when he was staring at me. It was like he was blocked off from me. But then Dylan did something so uncharacteristic of him – he gave me a warm smile and a quick thumbs up before grabbing for Maya and pulling her into his arms.

Ratchet swiveled the wheel to the left, but all of us were prepared and we weren't sent airborne too much this time. Although, the Gasman did bang his funny bone of the side of the bed, howling wildly at the moon in screeching pain. I laughed, my breath tinkling Fang's dulcet skin at his collarbone.

But then I saw the cops pull off the road as we had, and I was able to finally count them. I came up with the deranged amount of thirteen, give or take a few. But that was still too much. We couldn't outrun _thirteen _Dodge Chargers in an HD Silverado that was about out of freaking gas.

There was always a foot escape. I hope there weren't no holes around here...

Ratchet splashed into a mud puddle, and sludgy water was showered all over us, soaking us to the bone. We all yelled something that wasn't the nicest thing to say to someone, but we didn't give a shit.

That was when I comprehended that Ratchet had taken Iggy's advice; he was heading toward the old house down by the river. I just hoped he didn't hit anymore damn puddles 'cause I'd kick his ass if he did.

Fang removed his arms from around me and I crawled over to the side, looking out across the water. It was dark, but the moon was hitting the water just right, filtering out across it and making it glow. Then I turned my head to the right and saw an old, shackle-like house resting on top of a hill.

It looked like a old one-room cabin, the wood paneling the sides crumbling and falling off. There was a porch, but in the center of the roof was bending down, looking as if it were cracking in half like a stick crushed under my foot.

I turned around; the cops were gaining on us speedily, and now were only about fifty yards away. We needed to get into that house right now; they were going to catch us sooner, if not later.

Ratchet stopped the truck, turning it off and jerking the key from the ignition. Everyone in the bed jumped out, and everyone in the cad swung the doors opened and hopped out, everyone's feet sliding on the slick mud that continually surrounded the river bank.

And then we all started running to the old, shackled-looking house, using the lights coming from the squad cars to point us in the right direction. Fang had started running beside me, him and Iggy flanking me on either side, and once in a while I'd slip up because I wasn't accustomed to running in boots where mud was involved.

But they never let me fall. They'd each grab me by the elbow and yank me back up before I hit the ground. And they never once complained; how courteous of them. I, on the other hand, was cussing up a storm in my mind because I kept on falling. I was embarrassed, angry, and a little sad.

At least I wasn't Holden or the Gasman. They each fell multiple times, face-planting and somersaulting in the mud. I so badly wanted to laugh at their unintentionally stupidity, but I couldn't. It was like my throat had closed up, and the only thing it let through was carbon dioxide that I expelled into the atmosphere.

Finally, we reached the house. Ratchet was in front, and he jerked on the door, and it was flung open. The momentum of his yank sent Ratchet flying sideways, and Holden caught him before he could totally fall on the rotting porch boards.

We all piled in the tapered doorway, all of us trying to throw ourselves through it at the same time. Iggy and Holden were two of the first ones to attempt to bulldoze their way through, and when we all started pushing, they fell to the ground and we trampled them as we rushed into the shattering house.

Iggy, cursing like a sailor, picked himself up off the floor and jerked Holden up by the collar of the shirt. And then he reached outside and slammed the door shirt with a reverberating force that vibrated through the decaying walls.

"That is bullshit," Iggy growled out, wiping a speck of blood from the side of his mouth.

Then we were all silent, seemingly melting back into the darkness of the walls, waiting for the cops to make their unwanted appearance. The cars suddenly pulled up, their glimmering lights wafting in through the broken windows, reflecting off the glass and shining into our eyes.

Yet another round of cursing from Iggy.

We were all quiet except for a few muttered swear words and threats. I faded into the background, bending down to kneel on the floor. Kate saw me, and reached down to me pitifully, tears streaming down her heavily made-up face.

I felt sorry for her, and so I stretched my hand out to grasp hers, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. But I didn't know if it was or not. We were being tracked by police officers who'd arrested four kids –

And then Fang's phone started ringing, playing an old song by Chris Ledoux called 'Cadillac Ranch.' He groaned, seething in anger, and fumbled to get his Droid X out of his back pocket. _Now we call it the Cadillac Ranch..._

I slowly inched my way toward him, pulling Kate with me, watching as he unlocked and answered it, slamming it up against his ear. "What?" he drawled out slowly, viciously, his undeniable and indescribable indignation showing in his cracking voice.

I strained my ears, and heard someone start speaking quickly, the words jumbling together and forming incoherent words. I was able to catch a piece of what the the other person was saying; something along the lines of outrunning a cop and staying in a house. But I know for sure I heard something about blowing up the propane tank.

Jeez, I was all but dead.

Fang smirked evilly, rolling his eyes at whoever was speaking in his ear. "And what makes you think I'm gonna listen to _you_?" Dang, I wanted to know who he was talking to.

By now, everyone in the house had quietened down, and were staring intriguingly at Fang, probably wondering who he was talking to just as I was. What if it was his parents? The police? The friggin' US Army?

We all waited a few more moments, observing Fang as his facial expressions changed from multiple times in the minutes the guy was talking. "Roland's dad? He ain't gonna do shit to me."

Roland? Wasn't that the dude who nearly killed Holden; the same one who had a shotgun stuck to his head by Ratchet? Why would they be talking about the freaky guy? And, more importantly, what did he have to do with the tank?

Fang's face hardened, and, in an effort to calm him down, I slipped my hand into his and rubbed tiny circles on his calloused palm. He glanced down thankfully at me, giving me a ghost of a smile before resuming his odd conversation with the mystery guy on the other end.

"What about those kids they took?" he asked, and everyone in the room took in an audible sharp breath, knowing that he was talking about the four kids that weren't as fortunate as us to get away.

I'd had to leave both my younger siblings behind, and the Gasman had to leave his sister. If there was any possible way we could get them back, we needed to know it. It didn't matter what we had to do – we'd hunt down friggin' Bigfoot if it meant that those kids would get loose without question.

From the looks of Fang's tensed face, the news he'd just heard wasn't so good. He sighed, rubbing the side of his face, trying to swipe at the blood coating the side of his cheek. "They're underage, Johnny. And they've had a little to drink."

Wait, what? He gave both of my siblings, my sister-from-another-mister, and his angelic little friend alcohol? What the hell was wrong with him? He could have all the beer and moonshine he wanted, but those four kids were underaged. As in, too damn young to be participating in all the wild adventures of older kids.

Fang snorted unpleasantly, and I could see the tendons in his neck flaring at his anger, pushing out of his skin and emphasizing its structure. "Thanks, asshole," he said into the phone before bringing it down and tapping the screen, ending the call.

Have you ever been in a room when someone gets a phone call and everyone wants to know who it was? Well, that's how this room was, but none of us said anything. We were all too scared to. The person who'd been talking to Fang seemed to have pissed him off, and none of us wanted to have his anger directed at us.

But I wasn't like that; my curiosity was enough to make anyone believe I was insane. I couldn't go on without knowing who'd he'd just spoken too. They'd been talking about the four kids who hadn't escaped the cops and were currently MIA. And three of them happened to be kids _I _was supposed to be responsible for.

So much for a raise in my allowance.

"Well?" I said, drawing out the word long and hard, scrutinizing his facial expressions intently with my eyes. I took in his floppy black hair, large dark brown eyes, straight nose, and full lips, memorizing each feature. The only observation I obtained was that he was the hottest guy I'd ever seen.

Fang sighed. "That was Johnny," he began, and everyone's ears suddenly perked up even more than they were before. It was quite funny, actually. "He said that they're blockin' us in this house and won't let us out till the mornin'. He said that if we stay in here, none of us will get in trouble with the law. But he also said that he couldn't get any of the ones who'd been caught out of jail. We gotta do that ourselves."

And that was it. That's all Johnny said. That, if we stayed in this house all night without protest, we'd all get off scotch free, no questions asked. But, in order to do that, it meant leaving Ari, Ella, Nudge, and Angel to fend for themselves in jail. I couldn't let that happen. They needed us, and – by damn – I was going to help them, even if no one else was.

"I don't know what you plan to do, but we gotta get those kids out before morning. If my parents find out, I'm dead. As in, I will no longer be living –" before I could finish, unfortunately, my phone decided to go off, and I couldn't ignore it.

Groaning – and slightly embarrassed at my Taylor Swift 'Sparks Fly' ringtone – I reached into my pocket and pulled my iPhone out. I brought it up so I could see who was calling, and noticed that it was a number that wasn't programed into my phone. Should I answer it, or should I ignore it?

Screw ignoring it; that damn song was too annoying and embarrassing to be left playing.

I tapped the screen and lifted the phone up to my ear. "Hello?" I asked, trying to hide the curiousness out of my voice. It wouldn't be the greatest thing to let whoever was on the other end think I was interested in them.

"Max, thank God," Ari breathed into the receiver, relief and alleviation escaping into his tone. My heart soared hopefully at his groggy voice, and I felt a painfully, cheeky smile spread across my face.

"Ari?" I practically screamed into the receiver, causing everyone to all but trip over each other as they raced toward me to hear the conversation. "Where are you? Are you and the girls okay?"

Ari shuffled on the other end; fuzzy noises were sent into my ear. "Yeah, we're just fine," he answered, and I noticed he only replied to one of my questions. I knew where they were – I just needed to hear him say it. "And we're in the county courthouse. We're being held in one of the cells so they can get everything straightened out."

I was confused, my mind a little benumbed by the elation of hearing from Ari. "What do you mean, 'straightened out'?"

Ari took a deep, resounding breath, and began. "They gave us one of those drug tests, and found that we'd had a little to drink. They asked for our parents' phone number, and I gave them yours. So id you get a call from someone you don't know, answer it. When they have the parents' consent, they're going to hold us till they get here."

"So, I can just come there and get you and Ell and Nudge?" I asked, unsure if that was the case or not.

He shook the phone, fuzziness floating to my end. "No, 'cause they know who you are and they know you're one of the kids that outrun the cops," he said, but his voice was barely a whisper, and I had to strain to hear him coherently.

"Ari, I'm gonna get you and Ella and Nudge outta that place," I said, my breath hitching in my throat, and I had to grunt to remove the knot it'd created. I meant what I'd said. I'd do everything in my power to get them all out, including Angel. I wouldn't stop till they were out.

Ari chuckled softly into the receiver, as if to say that I was wrong, which I took offensively and so totally wished he was here so I could clobber his face in.

"I gotta go, Max," he whispered, barely audible, but I heard him loud and clear. "They're watching me. I'll see you when I see you."

And that was it. He hung up. Didn't tell me if he and the girls would continue to be okay; didn't tell me anything I could use to get him out; didn't tell me anything other than the fact he was already aware of.

My eyes wide and my mouth agape, I pulled the phone from my ear, tapped the screen a few times, and then pocketed it. It wasn't fair; I wanted more time to talk to my little brother so I could get an idea of what we were dealing with. Maybe, since those four were on the inside, I'd acquire some inside info.

Still in semi-shock, I hadn't noticed that everyone was staring at me, and that Fang had slowly, softly, laid his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side. I wrapped my arms around him, snuggling into his familiar comfort, and pressed my face into his chest.

"So, you're gonna break Ari and all them outta the pen?" Iggy asked me curiously, his lips twitching up into a wickedly arched smirk. Did he know something I didn't? Was he making fun of me for plotting to get the kids out?

I nodded firmly, securely believing in myself, trusting that I could break them out. With the help of these countryfolk and my city-slicker friends, if they offered it. "Yeah." This time, when I spoke, my voice didn't crack or waver. It was full of anger and strength; I would win.

Fang chuckled lightly, the noise rumbling in his chest, and I looked up to see him grin down at me. "You know we're not lettin' you do that on your own, right?" he asked me, and I couldn't help but allow a large smile to spread across my lips.

"I figured," I responded, pulling away from him and standing on my own. My smile only became larger, till it was a cheeky grin that was stretched painfully across my face. But I didn't care. I had loyal people who were willing to help me break the kids out of jail. I had every right to grin as big as I was.

"First thing's first," the Gasman said, a devious glint lighting his shockingly blue eyes. "We gotta get the hell outta this shithole 'fore we do anything."

**And there you have it – Chapter 19! Shoo, it was a bit long, huh? 7009 words... Wow.**

**Like I said, the plot is finally starting to pull together somewhat, and it'll all get going. I'm guessing there's gonna be 7 or 8 more chapters; 10 at the most. But I'm just guessing... In case you didn't know, I suck at guessing. :)**

**I said I had terrible news. Here it is: I went to this thing over the weekend called Balloonfest, and they had this jacked up, souped out trucks that were racing through mud pits. Okay, while they were taking a small intermission, they let kids race each other in the mud. 12 and under, 13 and up. I was gonna race, my Mom wouldn't let me. And the first girl that won the race got BRANTLEY GILBERT concert tickets. I was annoyed. And then the dude who was announcing crap said that if anyone brought him a dollar bill with the number 39 in the barcode, they'd get a free ticket. I had one – this guy beat me. I WAS MAD. Then the announcer dude said that if anyone brought him anything OU, they'd get a free ticket. I had OU sunglasses – this fat chick beat me, even though she fell (I was on the opposite end of where the dude was)... I was pissed – I almost CRIED. And instead of staying for the thing till it ended, I told my mom and grandma and nephew that we need to just friggin' leave. Boy, was I mad. **

**Anyway, there's always more chances for me to win, I guess. But I was SOOOO mad! I coulda won those races – I used to run in mud everyday! My cousin did, though... he was doing pretty good, till he face-planted and got stuck in the mud. HAHA. **

**Is it too much to ask for a review? Oh, and if you love Chris Ledoux like me, review an 'Amen.'** **He's A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. **

**~SoonerMagic **


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry for my lack of updating – I actually do have a life, and I'm sick... At least you got it, right?**

**A little heads up: I think everyone who's been waiting for Max and Maya to finally exchange a few words will fall in love with this chapter. It's pretty funny, actually... It really happened to my Aunt. Full story at the end. **

**DEDICATED TO: **Fanglova**, because she (or he) wouldn't stop reviewing till I updated. :)**

**Here We Go!**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

"Ideas?" I asked, opening up a discussion for anyone who wanted to contribute. I knew it'd be hard, getting out of this shack, past the cops, and then busting the kids out of jail. But it was worth it. I really didn't feel like having my hide skinned by my parents.

Everyone looked around at each other, confused and conquered expressions on their faces. I knew that look. They knew what to do and how to do it, but they were too chicken to announce it. I didn't understand why people always needed the conformation of their peers; it's _your_ life. Live it.

"It's not like we can make a break for it through the front door," Maya said, breaking the silence and reminding us all, using a matter of fact tone that – quite frankly – pissed me off. And it wasn't my fault I blew up at her. I blame it on the fact that I caught her and Dylan practically dry humping in his truck.

"Ah! I see the memo fairy has visited us again!" I said stupidly, turning around to face Maya since she was behind me. Fang sighed audibly behind me, but I didn't care. I gave her a wickedly devious grin, and she returned it with a freezing cold glare. "No need to point out the _obvious_."

Maya huffed a breath, as if clearing her nostrils of something filthy, like rotten boogers or something. That loud, unannounced sound got everyone's attention, and now they were looking at us, alternating between Maya and me. Fang sighed angrily behind me again, and I couldn't stop a pang of guilt from surfacing.

She waved my insult away with a flick of her wrist. "Don't piss me off tonight. I'm runnin' out of places to hide bodies," she said, rolling her eyes.

I smirked, stepping a little closer. "Everyone is entitled to be stupid, but you are abusing that privilege," I retorted, knowing it wouldn't be that hard to one-up her every time she shot me down.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce," she said, her brown eyes glittering with satisfaction. Oh, that got me even madder, and I started to see red flashing across my line of vision.

I snorted unpleasantly, the sound ricocheting off the walls and bouncing around the room, filtering into everyone's ears. "I'll try being nicer if you try being smarter," I shot back, acid escaping into my tone. She was taken aback, and I grinned evilly.

"You sound reasonable," she retorted, tapping her chin in thought as if she were honestly contemplating my weak proposition. "Time to up the medication." She flashed me a toothy, bitchy grin, which I returned in kind with a flip of my middle finger.

I thought for a millisecond, before I came up with the greatest of all know what it is? Well, read a little! "I'm standing here trying to see things from your point of view but I can't get my head that far up your ass."

Anger flashed across her crimson face, but she just grinned and stepped closer. "Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful," she said, her eyes boring relentlessly into mine. "Hate me 'cause your boyfriend thinks so."

Oh shit, she did not just say what I think she just said. She did, didn't she? This night sure as hell wasn't going to end well, especially if I had to stay in a small space with this bitch longer than five seconds.

I shrugged her comment off, though I was literally a ticking time bomb of anger. "Beauty is skin deep, but ugly goes all the way to the bone," I responded, wanting so badly to sock her but keeping a straining lid on my raging vexation.

"If you're gonna act like a dick you should wear a condom on your head so you can at least look like one," she said to me, and I couldn't keep it in anymore. I just had to let it out. It would _kill_ me if I didn't.

I bared my teeth menacingly at Maya and pulled my right hand back, curling it into a fist, and was just about prepared to let it go, sending it flying right into her ugly face, but Fang caught a hold of my arm before I could follow through.

Confused and I little disappointed, I turned my head and looked up at Fang, fluttering my eyelids in question. Fang shook his head, his glowing black hair soaring through the air. "She ain't worth it, Max," was his explanation, and I was naïve enough to take it.

But then Dylan, the dumbass, decided to say a few words of wisdom.

"She deserves someone better than you!" Dylan screamed, pulling his fist back and letting it fly, hitting Fang right square in the jaw. I wasn't exactly sure if he was talking about Maya or me, but I knew that Fang was instantly pissed when he lost his balance and fell down.

And I also knew that I was even angrier, because, when Fang fell backward, he took me with him; he still had a tight grip on my right forearm.

Fang hit first, and I landed on top of him. I heard an unnatural crack, and then an immediate pain sprouted from my elbow. I raised my opposite arm and cradled my elbow, wincing as I rolled off of Fang.

I was on my stomach, cushioning my pulsating elbow, and couldn't see what Fang did when he jumped up and ran at Dylan. Several people gasped loudly at the loudly, stentorian noise of both Fang and Dylan crashing into the rotting wood floor.

A little surprised myself, I pushed up with my uninjured arm and spun around on my knees, my eyes bugging out of my head as I took in the abhorrent scene unfolding before me.

Dylan was on the floor, Fang on top of him, and they both were struggling obviously with trying to get in the best shot. Dylan clipped Fang on the chin, causing his tanned head to fly backward, but then he countered it by grabbing Dylan's shirt collar, pulling him up, and slamming him back down on the floor.

Star, the only one who actually had a handle on what was happening, ran at Fang and threw her light body on his back, pummeling his shoulders with more strength than I would've guessed she had and screaming at Fang to let Dylan go.

"Star, get off!" Fang hollered over his shoulder at the truculent Star, using one hand to hold Dylan down while the other was jerking at her jeans, trying to tug her off. Ratchet, finally comprehending what was unfolding before us, ran up to Fang and wrapped his arms around Star's tiny waist, yanking her up and slinging her around, walking toward the opposite end of the undersized room.

Out of nowhere, the Gasman and Iggy both came up behind me, flanking me, and put both their hands under my arm pits, using that to scoop me up onto my feet and balance me into a wobbly standing position. They seemed to pick up on my hesitancy of standing on my own and stayed behind me, quietly offering support in case I would lose my stability and fall.

Taking in everything with wide and shocked eyes, I couldn't' help but worry about Fang as he and Dylan battled it out on the floor of the house. This was a different fight than the one at the bar. This one was between two cousins, as close as brothers, who were fighting over something stupid like two girls having it all out.

Dylan used his legs to throw Fang off him, and then staggered to his feet as Fang jumped up and steadily balanced himself. Then they were both walking around each other in a small, barely-arcing circle, Dylan wiping gushing blood from his nose and Fang forcing back an evil smirk as he thought of a strategy to attack.

But I didn't have time to watch it all, take in everything, because Maya ruined it.

Maya hollered a piercing scream of fury and ran at me, her speed and momentum knocking me to the ground as she zoomed into me, where my temple connected with the crumbling wood. I cursed loudly and placed my hands out before me, using them to push myself up and roll Maya's fat ass off me.

Angrily, I staggered to my knees and then propelled myself to trembly, unbalanced legs, my body instinctively going into a fighting stance. Vexed beyond explanation, I watched Maya as she struggled to her feet a yard in front of me, wiping away a stray trail of blood off her lip from where her mouth connected with the back of my head.

"What the hell is your problem?" I asked her incredulously, trying not to laugh at all the odd and confused expressions that were glinting across everyone's faces. It was quite funny, actually.

Maya snarled. "What's it look like, city slicker?" she drawled before running at me headlong again. This time, though, I was prepared and easily sidestepped her body, a large grin exploding across my lips when she plowed into the near wall, the impact sending her sprawling onto the decaying floor again.

"Looks like Casper's kickin' your ass," I replied to her as she scrambled to her knees, looking around like she'd just been attacked by an invisible force. I only laughed harder at the bewildered and slightly shocked appearance.

Taking rare pity on her, I walked over to her and offered my hand, making sure to keep Dylan and Fang's fight in my immediate view. Maya looked up at my hand disgustedly, as if it were poisoned and it'd kill her if she took it.

I sighed. "It's just a hand. Take it."

And, boy, did she take it.

She grabbed my hand and jerked me down unexpectedly, spinning so that she was pinning me down and straddling my waist. I was caught off guard, my mind whirling and trying to unravel what had just happened, and then she did something so very stupid and dirty that I swear I would've fatally injured her if I'd been fully aware.

Maya leaned down and bit my left breast, a couple inches below my collarbone. I felt her sharp teeth sink deep into my tender skin, and I placed my hands on her shoulders, trying to desperately push her away as she bit harder and the pain intensified centerfold.

"_Get her off!_" I screamed in anger and agony, panicking as I felt blood start to glide down my skin and soak a portion of my bra and shirt. It hurt – it was indescribable. I'd felt pain before, but never anything like this. Let me back up a bit. I've never been_ bit on the boob_ before. This was a first.

And then Maya's body was lifted from me and the pain eased somewhat, and I could breath freely again. Through bleary eyes, I looked up and saw a bedraggled Fang and flummoxed Dylan looming before me, their faces disoriented with confusion and anger.

I couldn't move; I felt as if someone had surgically cut me open and unloaded several loads of gravel and sediment into my body, the tiny particles finding every crevice of my body and filling them. The only thing I could do was stare up at Fang and Dylan, the faint sound of Iggy cussing and Maya screaming wafting to my ears.

"She bit me," I explained, knowing by the look on their equally tousled faces that they'd spotted the small blemish of crimson on my shirt. "On the boob."

After I said that, Fang and Dylan both looked at each other, bemused, and I could see the tiny grin they were trying to hide as they shared a secretive look, as if they hadn't just been having an all-out fight. Their untimely humor made me mad – okay, pissed me off – and so I got up off the floor and pushed through the two cousins, angling my way toward a door at the opposite end of the room.

I was so mad I could cry, and had to force back tears of anger from my eyes as I shoved through the closed door and made my way into the kitchen. It was dark and damp, puddles of water forming odd shapes on the floor. I sighed in vexation and kicked an overturned chair out of my way as I made my way to the other end of the kitchen.

I felt betrayed because Fang was laughing at me. I wasn't exactly sure if him and I were an item or not; what do you consider two people who can barely be alone with each other without wanting to tear each other's clothes off and lose ourselves in one another? But it still hurt immensely, nonetheless.

My bite mark hurt like hell. I didn't know how to make it stop – did I have to go the the hospital and get disinfected? I was truly considering that option, because there was no way I wanted any of Maya's germs on me when I went back home.

Groaning, I leaned against the decomposing counter and buried my head in my hands, tugging at my wavy locks of hair as it settled over my fingers and blocked everything from my view. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see anything.

Then I could hear someone as they entered the kitchen and angled their way toward me, their feet pounding heavily against the floorboards. I could tell by the thundering sound that the person wasn't a girl, and so I could only come up with one person who'd be in here with me, trying to comfort me.

Fang.

"Go away, asshole," I said through gritted teeth, removing my hands from my face and raising my head just in time to see him as he stopped in front of me. I tried to keep the anger on my face, but it was just so hard to be mad at Fang.

He leaned into me, his arms reaching out to flank me on either side, and I sucked in a breath as his shoulder grazed the spot where Maya had sunk her teeth into me. "Not gonna happen," he whispered deeply, his voice scruffy from his brawl, looking deeply and keenly into my slitted, irritated eyes.

"Then take me home," I responded, crossing my arms to create as much space as possible between us. It wasn't smart to have two people who were so explosively attracted to one another close together, alone.

Fang had the nerve to laugh at my demand. "Nope," he said, his breath fanning across my heated face, the minty and rousing scent wafting into my nostrils and making me lean absentmindedly into him. "We gotta get those kids back first."

"How?" I asked, wanting to wrap my arms around him and bring him to me, but wanting also wanting to keep up my angered persona and be defiant. I went with the ladder after I flipped an imagined coin in my mind.

"Let me take a look at that bite," Fang said, ignoring my question and picking me up gently, depositing me on the festering wooden counter. His dark orbs bore into mine, a quietly burning desire melting me into a liquid puddle at his feet. My displeasure dissolved, I was completely his to do with whatever he wanted.

He stepped into the juncture of my thighs, his hands slinking upward till they were resting on the outsides of my legs, holding me close to him. I fought the urge to wrap my legs around his waist, because we all know what that would lead to, and I don't think this precarious counter could take that much action.

Swallowing a very uncomfortable lump that had formed in my throat while Fang and I had been staring at one another, I reached down for the hem of my light blue Hanes T-shirt and lifted it up over my head. Back at Fang's house, I'd thrown my undershirt in the trashcan because it had so many unidentifiable stains, and just settled with wearing his oversized shirt.

But now I was really regretting that vacuous decision because Fang had absolute view of my entire upper body, the only thing protecting me my lacy light blue and hot pick bra. Fang breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring as air filtered in through, and he bent toward me so he could evaluate my bite more scrupulously.

Forcing down a blush, I persuaded my resisting self to meet Fang's ebony eyes. I saw an utterly foreign expression in them, one that I wasn't sure if I liked or detested. It looked like a mixture of worriment, lasciviousness, and aggravation. All of which were aimed at me, making my head spin while taking it all in with a gladly generous mind.

I watched him intently as he assessed my wound, memorizing the plains of his sharp face and the way his lips parted slightly as if he were saying something. I breath seized in my throat harrowingly at the thought of his lips skimming over my skin, and I tried to gasp in oxygen without it being too noticeable to Fang.

He suddenly pulled away, his face aglow in a mask of anxiousness, and he looked seriously at me, though I could still see that he was having trouble fighting back the urge to kiss me silly. Now he knew how I felt.

"Well?" I asked, eager to get the basics of what it looked like and how I could take care of it soon so I could make both of our dreams come true by brushing my mouth with his.

Fang cringed apologetically. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said neurotically, backing up a little so I could see that he was serious, not just playing. I hated it when someone said what he'd just voiced – saying that it wasn't as bad as it looks was just another, more softer way of saving that it looked painful and very unbearable.

The stinging pain was leaning toward the 'unbearable' category. But it wasn't like I'd tell Fang, of all people, that. I had to keep up my tough-girl, mocho persona.

I shrugged indifferently, my face adopting a bored expression as I reached up and tangled my arms loosely around his neck, my hands finding their way into Fang's lacquered locks. "I'll be fine; don't sweat it."

What I really wanted to do was get down to the kissing part; couldn't he see that I was desperate to feel his lips pressed pliantly against my own? If he couldn't, he was freaking blind.

Fang sighed and buried his dark head in my lap, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me toward him. I raised my hands uncertainly and placed them on his head, running them through his silky hair. Way to kill a mood, Fang.

"I'm sorry for laughin' at you," he muttered, his voice sounding weird and off since he had his face crushed into my lap. He raised his head a little, his eyes just barely peeking through his raven black hair, and he gave me a soft grin. "Well, I ain't first class but I ain't white trash. I'm wild and a little crazy too. Some girls don't like boys like me."

"But some girls do," I retorted, my voice a little husky as I pulled his face up to where it was level with mine. Yeah, I know it was corny to say that, but everything about tonight seemed corny, especially with all the crazy things happening. Especially with the fact that I'd been bitten on the boob.

The right side of Fang's tantalizing lips lifted in a half smile, the simple movement of his mouth sending my heart racing uncontrollably. In his dark eyes, I could see a igneous desire start to flare, and I knew it matched the look in my own eyes. I wanted him to kiss me so bad to where it was physically painful.

And then Fang leaned upward, finally connecting our deprived lips.

I moaned against his closed mouth, my fingers yanking at his satiny hair and pulling him closer. He obliged willingly, arching his body against me and wrapping his right arm around my waist while the other came up to cup my cheek.

Totally forgetting about the fact that I didn't have a shirt on, I enfolded my legs around Fang's waist and inched myself closer to the edge of the counter for us to be almost entirely adjacent. Fang ran the tip of his slick tongue against my lips, and I opened up, moaning deeply as he claimed my mouth.

He inched his hands under my butt and lifted me against him, picking me up and turning around, walking over to the rickety table with me in his arms. I felt light, weightless, in his strong, capable arms, and I pulled him down with me when he plunked me on the table. He came down on me voluntarily, pressing his entire upper body against mine as he ran his hands through my snarled hair.

Sliding my tongue against his, I rewrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him fully on top of me, to where we were both laying diagonally across the tiny table. I could feel it start to tremble and make shaky, cracky noises as Fang scooted himself up so he could get better access to my lips.

And then the worst possible thing in that a heated situation like that happened. You guessed it – the table broke.

Fang and I crashed to the ground on splintered wood, planks flying everywhere as a loud, resounding boom graced the silent atmosphere with its unwanted presence. I felt the air leave my lungs since Fang landed on my chest, and I fought to regain it back as muffled and amused laughter flooded in through the dark doorway.

Grasping at Fang and pulling him back down as he tried to get up so he could cover me, I couldn't' fight an embarrassed and humiliated blush as it accented my cheeks. Rolling my eyes to the left, I caught sight of everyone as they stood in the doorway, openly guffawing at mine and Fang's passionate stupidity.

Iggy, Ratchet, Holden, and the Gasman were practically falling over each other in their hysterics, pointing and atrociously reenacting what had just happened. Star and Kate were attempting to slap at the guys to make them stop, but they were trying to hide their sniggering as well. Dylan and Maya were both trying to force themselves through the crowded doorway so they could see the scene, and when they did, I thought they were going to die from their delirium.

"We... gotta... plan!" Iggy tried to choke out between stentorian chuckles, wiping humorous tears from his eyes as he attempted to use sign language and tell us the proposition. He gave up after several failed, miserable tries.

"We run outta the window and hightail it to the road!" Ratchet answered for him, starting off real smooth and controlled, but then his voice suddenly escalated to a loud squeak by the time he'd finished.

Fang, forcing back a reddish tint that spread across his tanned features, noticed my no-shirt dilemma and said, "Holden, toss me your hoodie."

Holden had a hard time taking his hoodie off from his laughter, and Kate had to help him remove his arms from the sleeves. Then she slung it at Fang and he caught it smoothly, lifting up slightly and handing it to me. He pushed himself up, his eyes telling me that this wasn't over yet, and he blocked my exposed upper body from everyone's immediate view as I struggled into the large hoodie.

Biting my tongue to keep from cursing, I pulled the jacket over my head and smoothed it out over my body, sighing inaudibly as the silky softness of the fabric settled against my naked skin. I breathed in deeply and Holden's individual smell was transported to my nose. It was different than Fang's – more like citrus fruit and chocolate – but it still smelt good.

Better than what I'd have expected.

Once I was fully clothed, Fang stood up and reached down to aid me. I allowed him to pull me up, my upper breast beginning to hurt again, and I kept my hand sheathed in his as he started to speak to everyone, an unnatural screeching highness in his voice. I shook my head in disgruntlement.

"So, we just sneak outta the window, right?" he asked, squeezing my hand tighter than necessary. I squeezed back just as hard.

"Pretty much," Gazzy said, nodding in answer as he bit his bottom lip to keep a grin from surfacing on his lips. I started to get angry again, but then I looked at the situation through his eyes, and realized that I'd have been laughing my ass off if it'd been someone else.

"When we leaving?" I asked, the sound of my voice blocking out any further laughter from the others.

Then, suddenly, everyone became intense and serious, their eyes meeting mine as if they were about to tell me something important. I couldn't help but remember an old movie that my Dad had watched before – I don't' remember the name, but it was considered old today – and it had a scene in it just like this, where everyone was pensive and erect.

I'd laughed at it before, and had to stop myself from bursting into hysterics this time.

Ratchet finally answered. "Right now."

**WHAT'S THIS? OH, IT'S JUST A PAGE BREAK! FIRST ONE THIS CHAPTER!**

And so, after everyone got all the laughter and giddiness from their bodies, we took turns climbing out of the only concealed window in the house, which just so happened to be in the kitchen. Maya and Dylan had the liberty to go first, since they were the ones who were supposed to distract the officers while we all made a break for it.

They'd both hopped out, landing on their feet but then slipping the ominous mud taking shape at the base of the window. Dylan and Maya went spiraling into one another, their heads thinking together, and I laughed my ass off when they staggered to their feet and ran around the old house, stumbling like to rabid raccoons.

Next was Star and Ratchet. He hopped out first, then turned and held his arms up to catch Star as she leaped from the high window. Then they both took off, sprinting toward the other side of the house.

"Meet us around back!" Ratchet yelled in a whispery tone, grasping Star's hand and pulling her toward him.

Fang nodded, reaching back behind him and grabbing Holden by the collar of hi white tank top and pulling him up. "You just jump out, wait for Kate, and then skedaddle behind the house. Got it?"

Holden nodded, jumping up and down in anticipation, and then Fang flung him out the window. Holden tumbled over the windowsill and crashed awkwardly onto the ground, his head somehow becoming stuck in a pile of accumulated mud. The Gasman and I started dying laughing, and Fang was trying to hold back a smirk as he aided Kate out so she could help Holden.

"You're up, Gaz," Fang said, looking over his shoulder and Gazzy. "You know what to do?"

He nodded. "Go over and get Dylan and Maya and then we run like bats outta hell into the woods where we lose the cops. No sweat." He walked up to the window, a large smile still depicting on his face, and then he hopped out with ease.

I heard Holden curse him like there was no tomorrow because, apparently, Gazzy landed on his back, which sent him headfirst into the mud again. My laughter renewed, I guffawed loudly as Fang and I waited for the three to clear out.

"Max," Fang said, amusement in his tone, though not as much as mine. I immediately sobered up. "You sure you can do this?"

I nodded, intent on showing him that even a city slicker could master the ways on the countryfolk. "Of course," I said, leaning up and pressing my lips against his cheek in a fleeting kiss. I pulled back, delighted by his slight flush at my simple peck. "Don't worry about me."

He grinned, took my hand, and looked down at the window, making sure it was clear before we attempted to jump out. "All good," he said, looking back at me questioning. "You ready?"

I nodded, accepting his help as I climbed onto the windowsill and hopped off, my booted feet banging against the soggy ground and causing me to lose my footing somewhat. I leaned against the side of the house for balance as Fang landed beside me. The slushy ground knocked him off too, and he leaned into me, staring up at me with desire-clouded eyes.

"After this is all over, I'm gonna get you alone. All to myself," he whispered huskily, the need trickling from his tone. "You can count on it."

"I'll be waiting," I said, my heart fluttering, and then I took his hand just as I caught sight of the Gasman, Dylan, and Maya as they ran around the house, screaming and cursing at the cops as they followed unsuccessfully behind.

I pulled Fang after me, adrenaline fueling me with desperately-needed power, and we all plowed through the swampy, shallow water that surrounded the old house. Kicking up water and mud, we ran as hard and as fast as we could, and soon caught up with the others as they just began to enter the dense forest of trees.

Running through the woods and trying to hold the hood over my head, I didn't notice that there was a large electric blue truck sitting right in front of a sizable patch of water oaks. Perplexedly, I squinted my eyes and cocked my head sideways, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was in the driver seat as Fang drug me along after him.

I'd never seen that truck before; it was one that I'd remember if I'd ever seen it, thanks to the silver and white twirling flames running along the sides. I heard the others as they screamed and exclaimed loudly as they tried to figure out who it was as well.

But they were stropped, which I guessed was the signal for us to hop in the back.

Everyone besides Fang and me jump in the back of the high truck, having to place one foot on the trailer hitch and the other on the tailgate and pull themselves up. Fang and I ignored the others as they hollered at us to get in too, and instead we walked around to the driver's side, wanting to know who was trying to help us out while we were running away from numerous police officers.

The black-tinted window rolled down, and I gasped as I took in the sight before me. It was Sam Waylons, a cold beer in one hand and his lady friend Lissa practically sitting on his lap as she stared angrily at me and dreamily at Fang. I fought the urge to flip her off.

Confusion and anger flashed through my adrenaline-riddled body, and all I could see when I looked up at Sam was him holding my sister and manhandling her. That thought pissed me off beyond belief, and I knew that, if Fang wasn't right beside me, I'd probably say, "To hell with it all!" and attack Sam Waylons myself.

"Get in," Sam commanded Fang and me to do, reaching down to unlock the back door so we could enter. "We have a few things to talk about.

**Okay, so I said I'd give you the whole story of what happened to my aunt. Here goes. **

**She went somewhere with her boyfriend, and she was drinking a little, but she was on her way to the truck when these three crazy chicks attacked her. Let's do some math: three vs one? Highly uneven, but that's how it is. Anywho, one chick bit my aunt on the top of her breast, near her collarbone. She showed me the bite, and that thing was _TERRIBLE_! It was bruised all around and black and blue, and even had a little mold or something on it I think... **

**I still laugh about it sometimes. **

**Good news! I've finally posted the first chapter to my Hunger Games story, Backdraft. I ain't saying that you have to check it out, but if you've read the series and like my writing, would it honestly kill you?**

**Welp, what do you say? How 'bout a review?**

**~SoonerMagic **

**lmL**


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry about not updating – basketball and all, and I'm getting my ass chewed out by my coach. Oh well, it's cool I guess. Also, the homework's really piling up. And my social life is going down the drain. Anyway, hope you enjoy. It's kinda long... :)**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Fang and I had jumped into the back of Sam's truck with a minimum amount of questions and maximum amount of weariness, confusion, and skepticism. I'd broken his nose, he'd tried to harm my sister, Fang had kicked his ass, and he'd been arrested by the cops.

After all that, did he still like us? Was he that freaking retarded?

And that chick, _Lissa_, sitting right next to him? She was the one that clawed up face at the bar, right before I kicked her ass. Surely she wasn't too happy to see me again. You know what? These countryfolk are some crazy ass critters.

Sam slammed on the gas, and we were all sent flying backward, my hand finding its way over to Fang's and I squeezed so hard it was a wonder the limb didn't fall off like a zombie's.

Jeez, terrible mental image. I mean, could you imagine it? Fang, as a zombie? That was like trying to imagine Pinocchio as a real boy. Freakin' impossible. But, in the end of the movie, he was a real boy wasn't he? Oh damn, now I was confused.

"Okay, I'll be the tough one and break the ice," Fang drawled out, switching our hands and then placing his free arm across my shoulders, protectively pulling me against his side. "What the hell, Sam?" His voice held confusion and anger, with a slight dash of annoyance and even amusement.

So much different than my mad, angry, and pissed state. Oh wait, that was all pretty much one emotion. Sorry.

Sam huffed, which I didn't exactly understand. I mean, how come guys just couldn't answer with words instead of huffing all the time? Was it that hard to just let a few spare words pass their lips? It was so hard for dudes to tell a girl that he liked her, but that same dude could turn around and then say that the same girl has a nice rack.

Surely I'm not the only person in the world that's ticked off about that fact.

"Do you know how to talk?" I asked acidly, venom dripping from my voice.

"Give him some time," Lissa yelled back at me, turning around in her seat and giving me the stink eye. My anger flared promptly, and I restrained the urge to yank her red hair from her scalp. "He doesn't exactly know how to word what he wants to say."

_Pussy_, I thought, but didn't say because – unlike most people may think – I am a good person. Well, sometimes.

"Then what happened?" I asked, opting for an understanding tone but I was pretty sure it was annoyed.

Lissa, apparently Sam's spokesperson as he rambled on down the dirt road, answered in a relatively nice tone, "A bunch of our friends were arrested a few hours ago for some shit they supposedly done."

Wow, pretty much the same scenario with their friends as ours. What all had happened during the time between the fight at the Cannery and the exploding propane tank?

"Roland had a little run-in with the hi-pos too," Sam added gruffly, spinning the wheel to the left and throwing all of us to the right. "They got half his crew on some lousy charge sayin' they'd been tryin' to rob a Tote-a-Poke."

I gulped, remembering what Roland had almost done to us, and how Ratchet took out a 12 Gage on him. "Did they?" I asked breathlessly, though I believed I already knew the answer.

Sam snorted unpleasantly. "Of course not!" he bellowed, looking in the review mirror and glaring at me vexedly. "Roland may be a little rowdy, but he ain't that type. Fang knows what I mean."

Curiously, I looked up at Fang to see what Sam meant, and the expression on his face was one of humor and irritation. Hmm, wonder what was with the eccentric mix? "Fang, care to elaborate?" I asked softly.

He snickered. "Yeah, Roland ain't the type of guy to rob a store, though he'd try to," Fang answered, his eyes glazing over somewhat as he reminisced. "Prob'ly slip up and get the gun stuck in his pocket or something stupid."

"Okay," I said, a little annoyed as to why it was taking so long for Sam to get to the point. "Why don't you stop beating around the bush and come out with what you want to say?" Gotta love my no nonsense manner, huh?

Sam slammed on the brakes and pulled off the dirt road onto a highway, one I wasn't sure I'd ever seen before. There were trees outlining the length of it, and several houses far off into the thicket. There was a sign coming up, and I peered keenly at it.

_You are now leaving Hartford, Arkansas. Come back any time!_

What the hell? We were in freaking Arkansas? As in, the state west of Oklahoma, where we were currently supposed to be? Son of a bitch.

"What I'm sayin' is that I know y'all's friends was arrested too," Sam said, passing a large SUV as it signaled to turn left. "Roland's and mine was too."

"Your point?" I said, annoyed, yet slightly comforted by the tight grip Fang had on my hand. Have I mentioned that his grasp was firm and strong, the makings of a great man? I have? Well, that was just a refresher then.

"His point is that we need your help," Lissa muttered, a little embarrassed that she had to admit they needed a rescue by the two people who'd recently kicked their asses back to Bangkok. "You in?"

I was a little bemused, and didn't try to hide the confusion from my face. They wanted our help? Were they smoking meth? Why in the world would we help them? And, more importantly, how had they known that Angel, Nudge, Ella, and Ari had been arrested?

"I realize it's a little crazy to say that," Sam said without giving Fang or me any time to respond. "But I got the whole thing planned out. Y'all's groups gonna sneak into the library in Poteau and checkout the blueprints of the county courthouse while my group hunts us all a ride and Roland's gatherin' all his buddies."

"So what you're sayin' is that you want our help?" Fang's loud, boisterous voice was drowned out by the rumbling of the Chevy big-block motor, but I know Sam heard it clearly.

"Right," Sam responded, nodding in the review mirror so Fang could get a view of him.

"What's in it for us?" I asked, not prepared to give it my all unless I received payment.

Lissa chuckled inanely, and I fought the urge to bark out a sarcastic remark. "You want to get those kids out, right?" Jeez, I hated it when I asked stupid questions and was repaid with an obvious answer.

Total blonde moment.

"You in?" Sam asked again, smiling knowingly at us.

The devilishly roguish and wicked smirk that Fang plastered on his face was enough to make my heart start race with excitement and a dash of fear. I shivered in anticipation, pressing my side closer to his and tucking me head against his shoulder. This was it.

"Just tell me what to do," Fang said, and my heart jumped enthusiastically.

**PAGE BREAK! ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~ **

"So, let me get this straight. We're gonna break into a public library and steal the blueprints to the county courthouse while Sam tries to find a vehicle that will hold us all – which he's probably going to steal, by the way – and Roland's rounding up his buddies to help us bust all the people out of jail that've been arrested tonight?"

Damn, try saying that ten times fast.

Fang looked back at me and nodded from where he was striding swiftly toward the library's entrance, Iggy and Ratchet flanking him on either side, the Gasman and Holden right behind those two, with Dylan following closely behind Fang. Us girls – Star, Kate, Maya, and me – were all trailing the rear, because the guys just had to insist that they were the ones for this job.

Yeah, and I have two heads. That's called sarcasm, people.

"More or less," Iggy verbally answered, his boots clunking annoyingly against the cold and hard concrete walkway that led toward the steps that would take us to the library's entrance.

This place was like a freaking maze with all its winding walkways and stairs.

I was still lost, and I was pretty sure that the other girls didn't know any more than I did. "Okay, I get that part," I said, a little frustrated as I followed in Fang's footsteps. "Mind explaining _how_ we're supposed to do it?"

"Front door," Ratchet said, waving his hand dismissively behind him, so close that he almost clawed my nose. Seriously? Did his knuckles just graze my left nostril? I snarled in a fit of rage, and had to suppress the screaming urgency to trip Ratchet.

"That's a crappy idea," I said, reflecting over the whole thing in my mind. You couldn't just _walk_ in the front door of a public library after hours. That was – well, it was illegal and damn stupid.

I could see it now: _Fang and Ratchet would storm through the front door and head to __the place where they kept the important documents, but then the alarm would go off and __it'd start raining monkeys from the ceiling who were hurtling bananas at everyone in angry fits of rage, and then those wolves from _Twilight _would pop out and start singing 'It's Rainin' Men!"_

Wow. My mind was mush from all the events of the night. I sorted through that stupid assumption, catching and throwing out all the weak links. The whole _Twilight _and weird monkey scenario probably wouldn't happen in a million years, but the first of it was right. The alarm would go off, and then the cops would show up, and then we'd all be hauled off to jail.

Jeez.

"How so?" Holden asked, though his voice sounded distant because he was so intent on what he was about to be doing. That surprised me, considering Holden couldn't stay concentrated on a movie for more than two minutes.

"Well, you're gonna barge in through the main entrance after hours, for one," Kate said from behind me, wrapping her arms around her chest and rubbing away the wintry gooseflesh. "You do know that places like this have _alarm systems,_ right?"

"Meh," said Dylan, and I repressed the urge to slap him upside the head.

Star groaned. "So, y'all are actually gonna go through with this idiotic plan?"

"It ain't idiotic!" the Gasman yelled defensively over his shoulder, hopping up on the first steps on the stairs that inclined upward to the library. "It's pure damn genius!"

"Define the word 'genius'," Maya whispered loudly to Kate, and my slight chuckle was drowned out by their obnoxious snickering. I was still mad – no, wait, make that pissed – at Maya for biting me on the boob, but if we want to break those kids out of jail we needed to work together.

"Define the word 'bitch' for me, Maya," Gazzy called behind him, an impish grin plastered on his lips. From my peripheral vision, I saw Maya stop and clench her fists, her mouth thinned into a hard line, trying to control her anger.

I laughed my butt off.

Finally, we came to the main entrance of the library. The doors were huge, sliding glass, and if you looked close enough you could see into the library. From where I was, squinting madly, I could see the check out desk and several rows of Mac desktop computers, with spinning chairs placed shrewdly down each row.

"Hmm, high tech," I muttered, impressed, as Fang and Ratchet took to try to open the front door. They each grasped the edge of one door, right where they connected, and pulled as hard as they could.

In the end, both of their hands slipped and they went flying backward, Ratchet knocking into a large shrub and Fang tripping over his boots and falling on his butt. To my utter shame, I didn't help either, and instead fell on my own butt laughing my ass off at their crazy antics. The Gasman, Holden, Iggy, and Dylan landed right beside me.

Sometimes in life, it was just enough to stand on the sidelines and let others play the game. But this wasn't one of those times. More times than not, guys do something retarded and us girls have to bail them out of their own stupidity. And that's what Maya, Kate, Star, and I had to do at this very moment.

"Y'all are really dumb," Star said, dusting off Ratchet's back to rid him of all the brambles after she helped him up. "I mean, you tried to go through the front door. Y'all shoulda known it'd be locked, and you're lucky you didn't trigger the alarms."

"True dat," Kate said, faking a gangster accent.

"No, don't. Just – don't do that," I said, looking at her pathetically and giving her a quizzical glance. Jeez, some people just weren't born with a brain. After that, I faced everyone to voice my plan and had to resist the urge to laugh at loud at Fang's angry and annoyed expression. "How about we go through the roof? Can't be that hard, right?"

"Uh, do you have eyes?" Iggy asked incredulously, allowing the Gasman to haul him up off the ground. "This buildin' is fifty feet off the ground! I don't think even Yoi Ming could jump that high!"

Kate and I looked at each other, sharing a knowing look, and snickered at Iggy's outburst. In all honesty, he wasn't lying. This building was pretty damn huge, and there was no doubt we couldn't jump up there or even lift someone up. No, there was that other thing called a _ladder_.

"The ladder around the side of the buildin', Ig," Fang said, figuring out the plan before I even had to explain it to him. Wow, he was pretty smart...

Realization not only dawned on Iggy, but on Holden, Dylan, the Gasman, and Ratchet as well. Their eyes went wide and their mouths opened into a perfectly astonished _O,_as if they didn't think that girls could come up with something so smart and easy.

Girl power! Jeez, that was awkward.

"Where's the ladder?" I asked Fang, turning so I could look him in the eyes. His face was shadowed by the darkness, but I could see the crooked smirk he flashed me. My heart went soaring, and I was left gasping, trying to suck in air so I could talk.

"Around back," he answered, rubbing the back of his head to rid it of a prickly stick. "But it's real rusty and pullin' away from the bricks and it's surrounded by a lot of briars and weeds."

Kate snickered. "Good luck climbing that one, Maxie Poo!" she said loudly, her high voice vibrating the peaceful silence of the early morning, and it was all I could do to not slap her. I actually did have self-control, even though that was almost unbelievable.

I rolled my eyes. "Potential danger? Nothing I haven't faced before," I said to anyone who happened to be listening, and then started around the building so I could climb the ladder, break in, and steal the blueprints.

All at once, I heard everyone start to fall in line behind me because the metallic clunking of boots on pavement was really starting to rub me the wrong way. I mean, serious.y? How do people stand that freakin' sound? It's like raking your nails on a chalkboard. And I'm not gonna lie – I beat a poor girl up in kindergarten because she did that. I got sent home and was suspended for two days.

It was kind of comical, actually. I mean, a kindergartener being suspended? Practically unheard of.

"Whatcha gonna do once you're on the roof?" Holden asked ungrammatically, slipping an unnecessary southern slang into his pronunciation. Who the hell was he trying to be? Blake – freakin' – Shelton?

"There's a big door right in the center that opens up and drops down into the supply closet," Iggy supplied helpfully, the spurs on his boots raking heavily against the concrete.

"And you know this because?" Dylan asked, following closely behind Fang and Ratchet.

Iggy snorted as we turned a corner and kicked angrily at a bush that reached out and snagged his jean leg. "This ain't the first time I've attempted breakin' into the library."

Fang and Ratchet both stopped, with the Gasman running right into their adjacent backs. "What the hell you talkin' about, Ig?" Ratchet drawled skeptically, his swamp-colored eyes narrowed into angrily accusing slits.

Fang crossed his arms and copied Ratchet's arduous posture. "Yeah, man," Fang said, his obsidian eyes flashing with anger. "Was that the time you woke up with a bikini wax and had a shaved goat snuggled up with you?"

The Gasman guffawed loudly, snorting laughter as he added, "Or was it that one time you had to go to the hospital because you shot yourself with a potato gun and snuck out?"

Maya snorted unpleasantly, doubling over with the racking laughter that threatened to send her sprawling on the ground. "Good times, that was."

Star nodded in agreement, a large smile tugging at her heavily-glossed lips. "Was that the first time you tried a flamin' Dr Pepper and got messed up?"

While everyone had been talking and putting in their two cents, Iggy had slowly began to blush and was now the color of a perfectly ripened tomato. "Jeez, y'all are crazy," he said heavily, his breathing ragged from embarrassment. "And for the record, y'all's all wrong. It was the first time I tried bourbon and had a passed out. But then I woke up in the middle of the night, picked up a chick on the side of the road, and broke in to the library because I wanted a damn copy of those James Patterson books with the flying kids."

Wow. I had no idea how to react to what all was said or even what it meant, so I just kept silent and continued walking, though I was curious about the bikini wax and that goat. I mean, honestly? What the hell was he doing with a freaking goat? Eating it? Unlikely. And then the bikini wax... Ouch.

"Dude, I didn't even know you read, man," Dylan drawled, and I heard him slapping Iggy on the back. Come to think of it, I hadn't put Iggy reading into much consideration either.

Iggy snorted. "Eh, I try," he said, his words cresting with denied mirth.

"He reads, alright," Fang said, and I glanced over my shoulder as he brotherly shoved Iggy into the side of the building. "He reads Dr. Seuss books."

"Oh yeah, I remember now!" Ratchet said as if a lightbulb had just flickered to life in his head. "How'd it go? Something like, 'I like green eggs and ham. Do you like green eggs and ham? They make your shit green!'"

Gazzy, I swear, laughed so hard he tripped over an invisible crack in the sidewalk and face-planted. I rolled my eyes at the guys' crazy and ludicrous conversation, and simply continued to walk on as I stared at the stained sidewalk. This pavement, I could tell, was older than the one out front because there were several black dots sprinkled on it from where people had spit gum and tromped it down over the years.

Ick, I hated other people's gum.

"Guys, can we please get serious here?" I called out to everyone over my shoulder, practically having to shout because they were all laughing uncontrollably at Iggy's wild antics.

Holden chortled insufferably. "Max, are you PMSing again?" he asked, just to rub me the wrong way, and my cheeks burned a bright red at his inapt statement.

Anger pooling inside my body, I whirled around and poked my right index finger into his chest, hard, letting him know that what I was about to say was something he needed to listen to. "Holden, I swear to God and on my mother's grave that if you say that again I will personally cut your testicles off and hang them from your tongue."

Holden gasped in sudden fear and shock at my retaliation, and the Gasman moaned as if he were in pain. "Dang, Max, that was uncalled for," Gazzy said, his voice sounding odd in the still night air as everyone breathed and waited for another reply.

"Your face is uncalled for," was all that I came up with, and after one more menacing glare at Holden, I twirled around on my left boot heel and stomped off, the others falling into reluctant step behind me.

Finally, after several more seconds of uncomfortable silence, the building began to give way to a gradual curve and I could see the outline of the old, rusty ladder. The streetlamp above us was throwing off enough light that I could make out its characteristics – its color, from what I could tell, used to be blood red but had faded to a dark orange-like maroon over the years, and the paint was now starting to peel away. Fang was right; brambles and thorn bushes surrounded and was growing up the parallel poles of the ladder, looking like zombie fingers scratching at their dead skin.

Wow. Totally weird analogy. Or was that a metaphor? I'd never been good at language.

"So, who's first?" Dylan asked everyone once we were all stopped in front of the ladder, studying its ancient attributes. "'Cause if we're voting, I suggest Max goes first since it was her plan."

I turned my head from where I'd been leaning it on Fang's rock-solid shoulder and snarled antagonistically at Dylan, hoping to create fear in his as I had Holden. "What was that?" I asked, beyond peeved. "In case you're a total blockhead, I'll explain it to you. Iggy should go first since he knows what the heck he's doing. Okay?"

Dylan, an irritating smirk painting his features, nodded solemnly at me, his turquoise eyes glinting marvelously in the faint light.

"Dumbass," I heard Fang mutter from beside me, face-palming in indignation, and I couldn't help but snicker.

"So I'm first?" Iggy asked, coming to stand beside me, sandwiching me in between himself and Fang. "I'm numero uno?"

Fang nodded, just as Ratchet retorted, "No wonder you failed Spanish in high school."

Everyone laughed, including me, and I couldn't expel the mental image from my brain of Iggy trying to recite Spanish in front of a teacher. He'd probably said something along the lines of "Gimme your money or I'll kill your goat."

Dang, I'm dumb.

"Start climbin'," Kate said from behind us, and before anyone could utter another word Iggy hopped onto the sagging ladder and began to climb.

I, unlike the others, didn't watch Iggy as he ascended the wobbly ladder because I knew it'd waste time, and so I tried to figure out if we could put more people on the ladder without it falling. Only one way to find out, I guess. I mean, would it terrible if someone took a small fall from a fifty foot ladder to the ground? They'd probably go _splat! _

Again, my brain seems to not be functioning properly tonight.

"Yo, Dylan. Front and center," I said, looking over my shoulder and watching as if left Maya's side and pushed his way to where Fang and I were standing. He gave me a sore look, but I just brushed it off. "You're next. Get started."

He gave me a WTF look, but I ignored it and pointed at the ladder, demanding him to get on with the show and start up after Iggy, who was already halfway to the top. He sighed antagonistically but complied without comment, sifting through the annoying brambles till he found a strong hold on the ladder. And then he started to climb.

Carefully, I watched as the ladder silently screamed under Dylan and Iggy's combined weight, but I noticed that it didn't pull any further away from the bricks. Iggy was already about to throw his leg over the roof: would it kill me to put someone else on the ladder?

"Star, you're up," I said to her over my shoulder, motioning to the ladder; I felt Fang nod in agreement beside me.

She nodded and walked away from Ratchet's lingering embrace, approaching the ladder and studying it keenly. She cocked her head to the left, then progressively started to yank the briars away from the bars. It was so fast that my eyes couldn't catch every movement, but I remember a stray limb of a bush hurtle toward my face, but I ducked to dodge it. But then, sadly, when I raised my head back up another thorn-infested branch attacked my face, scratching above my left nostril and in between my eyes, before it fell to the ground.

Oh my guinea pig. Did that branch just rape my face? I should so sue it for all its money.

After that, everything just kind of flowed like melted honey and milk. Iggy reached the top, aided Dylan in climbing over the small concrete wall outlining the roof, and then pulled Star up. I sent Holden and Kate, followed closely by the Gasman and Maya. Then when Kate and Holden were over the top – being aided by both Iggy and Dylan – Fang motioned for me to go.

"You sure you want me to go first?" I asked, casting a curious glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

He grinned emphatically and nodded. "Yeah," he breathed, slapping away at the remaining prickles Star had unintentionally left. "I wanna watch your butt as you climb."

Shocked that he'd even say something like that – yet also flattered, because who wouldn't be when a guy said that liked looking at your butt? (and don't lie) – I smacked him playfully on the arm. He gave me a contagiously happy smirk that left me reeling with excitement. And then, feeling a little daring, I whispered huskily, "You can look, but no touching."

And then, without giving him any time to reply, though I'm almost positive he groaned in frustration, I hopped up onto the ladder and began to climb. The rusty metal underneath my hands felt odd, and I could distinguish all the flaking paint from the callouses that had gathered over the years. It was wobbly slightly with mine, Fang's, Maya's, and Gazzy's combined weight, but it still felt sturdy and capable beneath my hard grip. At least it wasn't pulling any further away from the building as I'd expected.

But then the peaceful harmony of silent climbing was interrupted by Maya's sudden outburst at the Gasman.

"Get your fat ass out of my face," I heard Maya growl angrily up at the Gasman from where I was perching above Fang on the ladder, her voice dripping with icy abhorrence.

Gazzy snorted. "_I _have a fat ass?" he called down to her, a grin evident in his playful tone. "Have you looked in the mirror? Your butt is like ten elephants lined up next to each other, so don't be disrespectin' my luscious mound, Maya."

And then, obnoxiously, he proceeded to shake his ass in Maya's face. Yes, I'm not lying.

Laughter bubbled up inside me and escaped my tightly closed lips, causing a few snorts as well. Fang, beneath me, was trying to hide his hysterical chuckles, but was failing quite miserably, and the others on the roof weren't doing much better.

And then the bad thing happened.

You see, it's not exactly a good idea to shake your butt in someone's face while you and two others' laughter is rocking an old ladder that's pulling from the building it was screwed to because it'd only speed up the process of making it fall. And that's exactly what happened.

Everyone's laughter was calmed by a loudly shrill squeaking noise that came from the ladder, and was followed up the sound of screws popping from their places and trickling against the concrete below us. The four of us on the ladder froze with shock and tensed up, holding onto the rusting metal for dear life as more and more screws clattered to the ground.

Everything was bathed in complete and utter silence; there was no dogs barking, no crickets chirping, no rowdy neighbors having a party a few blocks away. Nothing – absolutely _nothing_. Fear was coursing through my body, glueing my hands to the metal so I wouldn't fall. I looked down, which was a complete mistake because I watched as two identical metal rings blasted away from the ladder and crashed to the ground.

And then another pair, closer up, fair. Not far behind was another set, growing ever closer.

"Climb!" I screamed, everything suddenly registering in my mind. We needed to get off this ladder before it pulled entirely away from the building and fell with us on it, pancaking us.

The Gasman shook his head and jumped up the ladder, his hands and feet moving indescribably fast as he propelled himself upward. Maya wasn't far behind, with her face almost pressed up against his butt. I resisted the urge to laugh again, because this obviously wasn't the time to let loose with one.

Pushing down every humorous thought, I reached above my head and grabbed some bars, using them to pull myself upward so I could get out of Fang's way. The Gasman had already reached the top and climbed over, I noted when I looked up, and was now helping Maya over the wall as Fang and I continued to mound the ladder with increasingly dangerous speed.

In record time, I reached the top and stretched my arm out. Maya – the least likely person I'd have thought would've offered a hand – took hold of my forearm with both her hands and jerked me up and over the wall without so much as I wink. I was hauled over roughly, my side scraping painfully against the wall, and rolled over so I could wheeze in pain and anger.

But then I remembered that Fang was still on the ladder, and so I jumped up to see if I could help him. The ladder, I noticed, had began to recede from the roof and was now a little over a foot away, with Fang still ascending it. I was scared that he wouldn't make it, and in desperation I flung my body over the wall to my waist and reached for his arm.

At that moment, the ladder decided to slide down the building and fall. Just freaking fall. And that left me with a dangling Fang clutching my one arm, which wasn't a pleasant situation. It felt like he was ripping my shoulder out of place, and I cringed at the pain.

Then my body started to slide across the wall.

I screamed in astonishment and tried to claw my way back to a solid footing, but only succeeded in coming closer to the edge. Iggy, thankfully, grabbed a hold of my foot and started to yank me back belligerently, his fingernails sinking into my skin through my jeans.

I winced at the painful feeling of my skin scraping against concrete, and yelled, "Somebody grab Fang!"

Ratchet and Dylan both jumped up to the job, reaching over and grasping Fang by the arms and hauling him up and over the wall where Iggy had deposited me on the cold, hard concrete roof.

I was gasping from the rush of adrenaline of seeing Fang dangling from the roof, and groaning from the pain of having my arm almost ripped out of place. My shoulder and upper arm were lit aflame with burning, almost unbearable pain, and I wanted nothing better to do than just go home, hop in my soft bed, and pass out.

But I couldn't. For two reasons: I had to get Ella, Ari, and Nudge out of that hellhole. And two: The ladder had fallen, and it wasn't like I could jump fifty feet and live.

I bit back a moan as the others bustled around me and Fang. "You okay, Fang?" I asked him, looking deeply into his amused and agonized eyes. I never knew climbing up a ladder would be so hard before.

He nodded, biting his lip, and gave me a soft, enervated smile. "Fine," he whispered back, leaning up on ish forearms. "You cool?"

I nodded too, not trusting my voice to respond to anyone or anything at the moment. Sucking in a hopefully soothing breath, I rolled over on my stomach and pushed myself up, looking like I was doing push-ups. I slid my knees underneath me when I was elevated at a certain height, and used them to push myself the rest of the way up, terminating the desire to let out an agony-filled scream.

Standing next to Fang, I wiped off the sheen of sweat on my forehead, sighing contently as the cool, crisp autumn wind blew around us, circling us in its tranquilizing chilliness. Silence surrounded us all as the wind continued to bathe us in cold, and I looked out over the scenic view with a feeling of awe.

It was beautiful. Cavanal mountain was rising in the distance, with the lights of houses illuminating bits and pieces of its body. Off to the left, I could see the highway that led out of Poteau to Monroe, Heavener, and Howe. It winded in the distance, barely encasing any vehicles on its asphalt. And then, to my left, I saw several lights shining bright, all from homes, stores, and cars.

It was so different, so much more beautiful than Tulsa. My hometown would still be bustling with thousands of people even into the wee hours of dawn. But not Poteau; it was too low-maintenance and small-town for that. And I loved that.

"So, where's this door that opens up?" Kate asked anyone in particular, scratching her temple and swiping away at some loose black hair that the wind had let go from her sloppy bun. You know, she really was pretty with her slim and lithe figure, but all that makeup she wore didn't do her any justice.

Iggy pointed to a large iron latch right next to Kate's foot, and said, "That's the door."

Then Fang and Ratchet proceeded to reach down and jerk on the bolted latch with all their strength, wanting to redeem themselves from their stupidity ten minutes ago when they tried to break in through the front door. And, actually, they did. The bolt flew off in a matter of seconds, and the door was threw back, crashing against concrete.

"That was smooth," Dylan muttered, watching as the door skidded and threw sparks in every direction. Pssh, he was just jealous that he couldn't do what Fang and Ratchet had done.

I laughed loudly at my immature thoughts.

"Who's first?" Holden asked.

I thought about it for a moment, biting my lip thoughtfully and cocking my head to the left. "I'll go," I announced after a few seconds, already making my way to the entrance of the library. I half expected someone – preferably a dude – to step up and say that it wasn't a lady's place to go first. But that didn't happen, because life wasn't made from the cheesy moments you see in movies.

When I was at the top of the entrance, I dropped carefully to my butt and stuck my feet in, straining to find purchase on something. The tip of my boot caught on something solid, and I let out an unsteady breath before pushing off and allowing myself to drop down into the door.

I landed with a resounding _bam! _and covered my ears as the noise reverberated in my ears. And then I noticed that the noise didn't sound right – it sounded like I'd just jumped on a stray piece of tin from a barn. Curiously, I reached my hands out on either side and felt the tips brush against the cold, smooth, hard metal of a...

_It's a damn vent! _I thought angrily, my vexation rising to a whole new level. How the hell were we supposed to navigate through a _vent_? Why hadn't I took a better look before I'd jumped?

"It's alright to come down, guys!" I called up, still pissed, and moved down the large vent a little so I wouldn't get tackled by anyone jumping down. Fang came down next, his heavier weight thundering against the metal vent, and he looked at me dubiously, not quite comprehending the vent. I rolled my eyes in the dim light and waved him over.

Holden and Kate were next, their combined weight making the vent shudder slightly, and I grabbed Fang's hand to keep from losing my footing. Then it was Maya and Dylan, slamming against the vent and causing it to scream in protest of having all this weight in it. Star and Ratchet came next, both of them busting their butts on the slick metal under their feet when they landed.

And last was Iggy, who was about to get an ear full from yours truly.

"Iggy, what the hell?" I screamed at him. "I thought you said this led to the supply closet! We're in a freakin' vent!"

I saw Iggy bite his lip in frustration in the faint light. And then his face opened, and he breathed heavily. "Wait a minute. The roof entrance to that convenience store on the outside of town dropped down in a supply closet," he announced, laughing silently. "The library is the one that dropped to a vent. Hehe, sorry!"

"Sorry?" Ratchet exploded from beside me. "How the hell do you expect us to get to the damn blueprint case when we're in a freakin' vent?"

Iggy thought a moment. "We could use Gazzy's head to knock a hole in the vent," he said, utterly serious.

"Go to hell," the Gasman barked angrily at him.

Iggy snickered. "Already have, and it's quite nice. Cooler than you think."

"Iggy..." Fang ground out, his tone even and matched, though I could tell he was trying to calm his biting anger. "You'd better come up with a plan to get us out of here –"

The vent underneath us started to shudder and shake violently, and we were all thrown against the walls. My head hit a screw in the vent, and I felt a warm stream of blood drip down my face. Fang landed somewhere next to me, cussing at how his groin was killing him.

Then everything and everyone was silent.

And then, all of a sudden and without any warning whatsoever, the metal vent abruptly gave way with all of our combined weight, and we were sent hurtling downward to the ground, screaming our heads off and clawing at the air for purchase.

All of us were sent pummeling to the ground, our loud screams and curses echoing throughout the silent library. I landed hard on my side, the same one that'd been scraped, and I sucked in a sharp breath to calm the stinging pain, closing my eyes against the agony in my ribs. It felt like someone had sliced open my side and were manually snapping each of my ribs our of sheer boredom.

In other words, it hurt like a mother effer.

Ratchet landed beside me, although he was more on me than anything, and we both let out a long line of ragged curses that involved gay monkeys and rotten venison. I was pretty sure I'd came up with the monkeys; that rotten deer meat was all Ratchet's doing.

Someone landed off to my right, but I couldn't see them because I was lying on the side that didn't hurt and I honestly didn't feel like breaking any more of my ribs tonight. Gah, I hate pain. Pain can be such a freaking asshole sometimes. I mean, don't get me wrong. Sometimes pain's good; it can help remind you that you're not invincible.

Here's what I was thinking right at that moment, though: _Screw pain, I'll be freaking invincible!_

"Holy shit!" someone – the Gasman, I believe – yelled loudly, his voice full of pain and hurt, though it sounded slightly muffled, as if a pillow were pressed against his mouth. "Maya, get your fat ass off my face!"

Oh. Haha.

Maya groaned loudly. "Go suck one, Gazzy," she replied, though it sounded more like a pitiful moan.

Blocking out everyone else's screams, curses, outbursts, and that odd, inhuman screeching, I opened my eyes to slits and peered curiously at Ratchet. Pain was dancing across his handsome face, his lips a thin and tight line and his eyes closed tightly against the anguish. "You good?" I asked, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

Ratchet cursed colorfully under his breath. "I've been better," he growled out, his voice sounding gruff from the pain of falling twenty feet to the ground. Way to be a mocho dude, Ratchet. "What about you?"

I shrugged, thought it hurt immensely. "I've been better," I answered, using his same line, and we both grinned toothily at each other through our pain.

"Oh my gosh, Fang!" someone yelled – Star. "Get off me, you fat horse!"

"I ain't friggin' fat!" he screamed back.

"Iggy, your boot is up my butt!" Holden hollered loudly. "Please remove it before I kill you!"

"That's not my boot!" he yelled back in response.

"Ugh, that's my hand!" Kate yelled or horror.

"Shut up!" Ratchet and I both yelled at the same time.

And then, after everyone was silent from their screaming at each other, I could finally hear the loud, shrill sound that had been threatening to make me go deaf. Wait, was that the alarm?

Oh shit.

**Thanks for reading, and please don't forget to review! Also, someone asked if I was going to write a sequel... The answer's yes. It's already in the works. It's gonna be called **What Happens In Vegas.

**~ SoonerMagic **


	22. Chapter 22

**Hehe, I'm still real sorry for not updating as fast as I usually do. I just hope everyone forgave me and was satisfied with that last chapter even if you didn't review. Updates will be every Friday now, once a week. Okay? I think you'll 'Aww' in this chapter... Maybe, I don't know. It's kinda nasty, in a way involving pee, but interesting. And funny, if you can get the joke...**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

_Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap..._

_Oh shiz, oh shiz, oh shiz, oh shiz, oh shiz..._

_OMGP, OMGP, OMGP!_

I was having a mental freak-out in my head, trying to suck in oxygen around the lump in my throat while wincing ever-so lightly at the pain in my side. Gosh, I wish this night would just _end_ all ready...

The alarm, still ringing as loud and shrill as ever, was the only thing you could hear in the silent library as we were all frozen on the floor, writhing in our own pain. My breathing ragged and irregular, I tried to calm it as I leaned up and studied everything around us. The library was completely dark, but the streetlights surrounding the building were filtering in luminosity through the window, bathing everything in faint shadow.

We all knew what that alarm meant. It triggered an alert system at the police station, and they'd send several patrol cars to check it out. Then they'd find ten young adults lying on the library floor in pain after breaking in through the roof and collapsing an air vent.

Yep, we'd be screwed if they caught us.

"Uh, guys?" Star croaked out hoarsely from where she was slumped up against a bookcase off to my left. "What do we do now?"

Everyone was silent for a moment, contemplating her obvious question, and then Fang yelled, "We get the damn prints and hightail it the hell out of here!"

And then, after his loud announcement, everyone jumped to their feet unsteadily and began to run toward the long counter off to our right. Iggy and Fang were there first, so they simply jumped up and over the bar and hopped to the other side, promptly running to a large shelf behind the counter and beginning to sift through the hundreds of documents.

"Gas, keep watch," Ratchet called out as he struggled to jab his foot back down in his boot while running. "If you see the fuzz, you tell us so we can skedaddle. Capiche?"

"No problem," the Gasman said, his tone bored, as he jogged over to the west side window facing the street.

Holden, who was in front of me, tried to act professional like Fang and Iggy when they bolted across the bar, and he failed miserably. The tip of his very stylish DCs caught on the bar's trimming, which caused him to trip over the counter and fall flat on his face. It was quite funny, actually, and I almost busted a gut laughing when Kate hit the bar the wrong way and landed on top of Holden.

You know, I was really beginning to rethink their relationship. They were _perfect_ for each other.

Laughing at those two goofballs, Star and I hopped over the bar without any difficulty at all, though when we touched the ground we slammed into each other and toppled over, landing on Kate and Holden. As Star and I fell, we flailed our arms out in front of us, grappling for any purchase possible that we could use for an anchor, and instead our greedy fingers connected with about two hundred or so of the thousands of records and other stuff, and pulled them all down on our heads as we hit the ground hard.

Angry and seething in my own pain, I groaned, my loud noise drowning out Fang and Iggy as they desperately sifted through the thousands of documents above our heads, oblivious to the fact that the four of us were writhing in pain on the carpeted floor right next to them. The only thing I could see though my partially slitted eye was paper as it wafted to the ground, taking its sweet time to fall, and Iggy and Fang as they both hunted anxiously through the crazy amount of documents.

Ratchet, Dylan, the Gasman, and Maya were next, and – of freaking course – they were laughing so hard at our foolish antics that they themselves tripped over the trimming of the bar as well and face-planted right next to me.

"Ha, ha! You dumb butt heads!" I screamed in their faces, ticked off beyond belief, and struggled to my feet right as Fang and Iggy finally noticed us.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Iggy asked cynically, as if he couldn't believe that we'd all tripped over the bar and were now face-down on the ground, twitching in pain and anger.

Fang all but groaned aloud in aggravation. "Get your asses up and help us!" he screamed at everyone who was down on the ground – I wasn't, thank God – and offered me his arm as I tried to steady myself. I grabbed ahold of his lean, hard bicep and couldn't restrain a purr of excitement of the fact that I had this dude's attention. For the rest of the night, at least.

He pulled me closer, molding my body against his, and whispered worriedly in my ear, "Max, are you okay?"

I smiled up at him, clenching my teeth at the biting pain in my ribs, and lied. "I'm fine, just a few scratches. Nothing I can't take care of," I answered, hoping I sounded reassuring and that he didn't catch the pain-filled glint in my light brown eyes.

Uncertainly, he nodded and removed his arm from my grasp, though I could feel his fingers fluttering against my own, as if he wanted to take my hand in his but thought better of it each time. "Good. You can help me," he replied, instantly turning from me and beginning to riddle through the papers again.

"Uh, how am I supposed to do this?" I asked, totally lost. I always hated the library back at school because I could never find anything.

Fang chuckled, flashing Ratchet a glare as he playfully pushed Dylan back down after helping him up. "It's alphabetical, so the courthouse blueprints would be under the C's," he answered easily, his evil glare shooting lasers at the aforementioned goofball.

"Where's the C's?" I asked, smothering my laughter at his murderous expression.

"Right here," he answered, waving his left arm in a wide arc, motioning to the entire section of documents in between the two poles about ten feet apart.

Dumbfounded, I said, "This _whole _section is just the freakin' C's?" My voice was unnaturally loud and screechy at my observation, but it was nowhere near the frequency of the ringing alarm. Speaking of that alarm, where were the cops?

"Were you even listenin' to anything I just said, Max?," Fang asked me in answer, reaching up and shuffling through the _millions_ of papers and files above our heads.

I shrugged in response. "No, I was hearing. There's a difference."

Fang's dark-as-midnight eyes glazed over in hasty annoyance, but it quickly faded away to leave a hint of humor in his dark orbs. I watched as he sifted professionally through the papers, and, taking his lead, I bent down and began rooting around the bottom three shelves for the blueprints of the county courthouse.

Looking closely and trying to tune out the screeching alarm unsuccessfully, I saw that Fang had been right – it was all in alphabetical order. Spotting a file so full it seemed as if it were about to bust, I skimmed the tips of my fingers down its side and identified the letters on the binding. _COA. _A little discouraged, I looked to the right and saw that the one next to it said _COA _as well.

Huffing an angry and irritated breath, I gyrated my head to the left and squinted my eyes so I could see the three letters at the bottom of the dark yellow – kinda like barf – colored folder. _COR. _Which meant that the files were running right in alphabetical order. That means that the file we were searching for is...

"I found it!" Star screeched as loud as she could, her already-shrill voice taking on a squeaking bullhorn affect, and it didn't much help my abused eardrums that I was right next to her. One word: _ouch_.

Fang quickly snatched the prints from Star's tightly clasped hands, unfolding the length of it and staring at it as if he were a kid and it were the treasure map that led to Davy Jones's hidden fortune. Cool metaphor, huh? Yeah, I know.

But before any of us had time to bask in the glory of finding the prints and congratulate Star on her accomplishment, the Gasman hollered, "Yo, they just turned down that road right by the funeral home. We gotta get out of here _right now._"

With that, we all ran as fast as we could, jumping over the bar and not falling this time – which I was thankful beyond explanation for – and made our way to the back entrance. I saw that it was a simple modern day, polished wooden door and was about to ask how we were going to get through when Fang – the Don Juan of muscles – hiked his leg up and kicked the door in.

Okay?

Without questioning anything that was happening at that very moment, we all hustled through the broken exit, hopping over the door so we wouldn't get caught on the splintered wood and skidding across the concrete as we turned to run down the sidewalk that wrapped around the library. Holden's overly long dark gray hoodie I had on was aggravating me; it felt like it was billowing out behind me and the wind was catching it, pulling me backward and not allowing me to run my fastest.

That happened before, once. In sixth grade, at a track meet in Oklahoma City. I'd lost because I'd worn a baggy T-shirt. It sucked.

"Oh, crap!" Fang exclaimed loudly from in front of me, beginning to slow in his tracks. We all followed his actions. "It's Brigid." The way he said her name relayed that she annoyed him and he really didn't feel like dealing with her right at this moment. I couldn't blame him, really.

Ratchet snarled. "She's gonna get us for sure."

Fang thought a moment, watching me intently as I jumped up and down a few times, trying to call on all my energy in case we needed to make a speedy getaway on foot. I cocked my head sideways impatiently, willing Fang to hurry up and come up with a magnificent plan speedily like he seemed to always do, but the way he presented us all with really rubbed me the wrong way.

"Guys, I'll take care of Brigid so y'all can have a clean getaway, for the most part," he announced, his voice cold and hard, as if he'd already thought this plan through in the twenty seconds he'd had of thinking. "Just take off as soon as they pull up."

"No," I blurted the word out defiantly, stepping up to glare into his dark chocolate eyes. "You're not staying. There's no point when we can outrun them right now if we hurry." The others, now behind Fang and me, backed me up wholeheartedly.

"Fang, that's crap."

"Dude, Brigid is _crazy_!"

"Yeah. Crazy for _Fang._"

"Yeah, man. She practically tries to publicly rape you every time she sees you."

"Wow, save that stuff for the bedroom."

"Is there even a room big enough for a head as big as Brigid's?"

"No, but we can fly her to, like, Egypt and stick her in the pyramids with those rotten mummies. She's freak."

"Good idea; let's go grab her now!"

Fang sighed, rolling his eyes at our comical rebelling. "Y'all know Brigid. She doesn't give up till she's got the guy," he reasoned. "Besides, if I get caught then just get me out when you rescue he kids."

I began to shake my head stubbornly, but Fang quickly reached around me, handed the blueprints to Ratchet, and cupped my face in his lean hands. "Max, it's cool. I'm gonna be fine," he assured me, cracking a small grin at my protectiveness.

"But you're being stupid," I protested, knowing I had everyone's support. "You're giving yourself up for us. It ain't fair." Wow, I just said _ain't_. Fang was starting to rub off on me, I guess.

Fang just grinned deviously. "All is fair in love and war," he replied, using the most corniest line ever. It was so freaking stupid that I had to crack a small smile. "And right now this is war. In a sense."

I sighed, reluctantly giving in, knowing that he wouldn't listen to me if I argued with him forever. "Fine, but please be careful," I pleaded, rising on my tiptoes to give Fang a speedy peck on the lips, right on the corner where they came together, and I felt his long arms start to snake around my waist but I pushed away before he could envelope me in an embrace. "Be safe, okay?"

Fang nodded, flashing me a devil-may-care smile before turning around and walking to the front of the library, where the cops were just beginning to pull into the deserted lot.

I watched him walk for a moment, memorizing the slight jump in his easy and causal gait toward the cops, before turning back around and trailing behind the others as they shuffled down the sidewalk, aiming toward a dense patch of forest directly behind the library. I called upon my excellent speed and pushed myself to where I was jogging beside Ratchet, who was in the front, next to Dylan.

"We're not really leaving, are we?" I asked them both, guessing correctly by the looks on their faces.

Dylan and Ratchet smirked at each other, then Dylan said, "See, Ratch? Told you Max had some brains."

Ratchet grinned at me, nodding approvingly. "Guess she does," he said, then to everyone, "Okay, guys. See that bunch of bushes up ahead? Jump over then duck down, 'cause there ain't no way we're leavin' my brother."

We all did as he said, jumping over the bushes and scrambling to our knees to hide and turn around to watch the scene unfold before us. Fang hadn't had to walk the whole way around the library; Brigid had come to meet him next to the demolished ladder. From where I was perched in between Dylan and Ratchet, I had a good look at Brigid. She wasn't ugly at all; her face had a little too much makeup and her corkscrew blonde hair could use a good brushing, but her bright violet eyes made up for those mistakes.

I couldn't help but wonder if her and Fang had ever had anything going on between them or not.

"Good morning, Fang," she purred at him seductively, rubbing her fingertips along Fang's exposed biceps. I so wished he wouldn't turned around so I could study his expression at her actions. "Where have you been these past weeks?"

Fang snickered, and I knew he had a good reply up his sleeve. "Hidin' from you." Wow, I felt the heat from that burn all the way over here. The male cops behind Brigid '_ooed_', just as we were doing over here behind the bush.

Brigid looked humiliated for a moment, but then immediately disguised her embarrassment as a slow grin at his words. "Ouch, Fang. That hurt," she uttered, stepping closer. My anger flared because Fang didn't instantly step back like he should've.

"I meant for it to hurt," he replied coolly, not letting his anger or annoyance escape into his tone as he spoke, though I knew his dark eyes were blazing. Brigid was just dumb enough to not notice his emotions swirling around in his eyes.

"You'd intentionally hurt me?" she asked, faking incredulity. Jeez.

Fang shrugged. "If I hurt you, you'd be on the ground."

Brigid gasped throatily, her violet eyes snapping wide, and I heard the male officers behind her laugh awkwardly, afraid to either intervene or leave the two alone. "You would _physically _hurt me? I'm shocked, Fang. Just think of what that'd do to my face."

Again, Fang shrugged, and I secretly envied him for the way his muscles rippled on his back whenever he moved. "You have enough makeup on that it'd absorb most of the impact," he replied, and I chuckled at Brigid's partly surprised and partly angry face.

Brigid rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue saucily. "Enough chitchat," she said sourly, at a loss for words compared to Fang's ample amount of angering retorts. "Why did you break into the library?"

Fang bit his lips thoughtfully, seeming to think deeply for a moment. "Uh, I left my refrigerator open and my mustard ran away, so I thought it had came here to ketchup on its studies."

I snorted in laughter and heard a loud sound spill through my clenched teeth. I gasped, slapping my hand across my mouth to keep in all the sounds, and fell to the ground along with Ratchet and Iggy as they rolled on the ground at Fang's retarded joke. I had to admit, it was pretty funny. But that might've been because it was so stupid. I wasn't sure, but the look on Brigid's face was _priceless_.

"Shh!" Star, Kate, and Maya all three chastised me and the guys as we were still cracking up at Fang's joke, though they were trying hard to fight the hysterical laughter threatening to break free from their clenched lips.

"It's... just... so... damn... stupid!" the Gasman wheezed, kicking the heels of his boots against the hard, dry ground.

"No... it's... so... damn... genius!" Iggy countered, tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

I laughed at their sad attempts at speaking and held my arm up in the air for anyone to grab it. I felt cold, clammy fingers clasp around mine and then I was hauled up, my eyes blasting open to see who was helping. _Maya_? What was she doing?

I stared at her incredulously. "Don't give me that look," she warned halfheartedly, cracking a grin at me. I looked in her eyes, brown like mine except a shade darker, and saw that she wasn't playing jokes or tricking me into a fake armistice. In fact, she looked totally... sincere. I know, odd right? I forced a tiny grin to my lips, and her's grew larger. "There ain't no point in fightin' anymore. You got what you wanted, and I got what I wanted. Truce?"

She held out her hand, and I took it after a moment of hesitation, thinking over all the times we'd gotten into it already this night. "Yeah, truce," I replied, still chuckling from Fang's crappy joke.

"How's your boob?" she asked, motioning at my chest through Holden's overlarge hoodie.

I was confused, and spoke slowly in response. "Uh, good. It hurts, but it's nothing antibiotic ointment can't fix, you know?"

"That's good," Maya replied, cracking a smile at me.

I nodded and crawled back over to where I was in between Dylan and Ratchet, confused at Maya's sudden armistice, and watched Fang as he tried to explain why the alarm was going off.

A truck suddenly pulled up behind us, blasting Travis Tritt's song _T-R-O-U-B-L-E_ at max volume. Surprised, we all whirled around, preparing two take off down the road, but then saw that it was Roland in his bright blue Dodge Ram. Bewilderment making its way through my body rapidly, I strained my neck and saw about three people sitting low in the very back of the truck, two girls and one guy. On the inside, I saw that the truck was filled, people in every seat.

Ratchet, Dylan, Iggy, and I all four cocked our heads questioning to the left, which was just odd since it was so synchronized. "How did y'all know we were here?" Iggy asked slowly, drawing out every syllable, applying an accent to each sound.

The passenger, who looked strangely familiar with his rust-like hair and deep azure eyes, reached for something and held up a CB radio. "It's called a CB, and we're hacked into the police reports."

Oh, that made perfect sense then. Well, not really to me, but I bet it did to all the countryfolk I was with.

"What're y'all waitin' on?" Roland hollered out the rolled down passenger side, his voice carrying an oddly humorous tone. "Get in!"

At the demand, we all raced toward the truck and through ourselves over the side, landing in bizarre angles. Swallowing back a holler of pain as my elbow hit the Gasman's temple, I crawled as close o the bed as I possible could and screamed at Roland, "Yo, Fang's over there with the cops! He's negotiating!"

I saw Roland nod in the dim light. "Gotcha."

With that, Roland popped the clutch and jerked the truck into gear, gassing it and slinging all of us backward. I grabbed ahold of the side of the truck, reaching for Kate's hand as she was thrown against the tailgate, and watched as Roland zoomed around the corner of the library, coming to rest in between the cops and Fang.

I struggled to my feet, pulling a silently crying Kate up with me, and tried to see Fang as he talked with Brigid.

"About that date, Brigid," I heard Fang begin cockily, though I couldn't see him, "I'm gonna have to pass. I've all ready got a girl. Sayonara!"

He placed his foot on the tire and hauled himself over with the utmost ease, opposite me. I watched as he gave one last obnoxious smirk at a fuming Brigid, and then we were _gone_.

Roland slammed on the gas with all his might, sending those in the bed flying backward. My booted feet slipped out from underneath me and I fell back, my spine connecting hard with the steely metal of the tailgate. And, let me tell you, it hurt like a small bitch.

Sucking in a stinging, hurtful breath, I groaned and forced my droopy eyes to scan the bed for Fang. I saw him standing up with his back pressed rigidly against the cab, a young girl at his feet clinging on. She barely looked older than fifteen with her curly bleach-blonde hair, large leaf green eyes, and translucent skin. I looked down, and I saw that her would-be-flat stomach was round and pudgy, highlighting the fact that she was carrying a child. Her expression said she was scared, but I could see it in her eyes deep down that she wouldn't let that fear control her.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed ahold of the tailgate to steady myself as Roland down the street and I studied this girl, wondering how an innocent-looking child could be pulled into this whole mess. She reminded me of Ella, who was so gentle and kind and loving and beautiful, and that only made my heart ache for her more.

Fang, sensing my stare, looked at me and saw me openly gawking at the young girl clutching at his leg. He gave me a pleadingly sweet look and smiled softly before leaning down to whisper something in the girl's ear quietly. She bit her lip thoughtfully and nodded tightly, releasing her deathly grip on his leg. And then Fang dropped down to the metal bed and began to crawl toward me on all fours.

Breathing deeply, I impatiently awaited for him to come to me. You'll never hear me say this a lot, but I _needed _Fang to hold me with a passion I'd never experienced before. It was racking through my body, expanding out till it was touching every single nerve ending, leaving me almost delusional with wanting. It scared me because I had to control over it at all. But then I also loved it, loved the way it made me feel and the way it seemingly tethered me to Fang by an invisible string from my heart to his. And I prayed it would never undo.

I sighed heavily when Fang came to face me. He gave me a ghost of a smirk and leaned back against the tailgate next to me, reaching behind him to find my hand and intertwine our fingers. I allowed him to pull my hands free of the white-knuckled grip I had on the tailgate and massage the tension from my body by forming sweetly alluring circles on the back of my palm.

"Her name's J.J," he whispered in my ear as Roland rumbled down the road, turning the wheel sharply to the right so I was inadvertently into Fang's awaiting arms. He released his grip on my hand and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulled me into him before reaching over and grasping the other hand. I sighed contentedly, satisfied at being in an half-embrace with him even if we were currently outrunning the cops again.

"She looks a little too young to be pregnant," I mused quietly, watching the Gasman as he carefully sat next to her and pulled her trembling, petite body into his large-muscled arms with such gentleness that I was jealous.

Fang chuckled, running his hand through my tangled hair, being careful to coax the snarls from it. "J.J.'s eighteen, Max," he retorted, his hot breath ruffling my escaped waves tickling at my neck. I looked at J.J. again, closely, trying to make myself believe that she was my age even though she looked fifteen. "She's Gazzy's fiance."

My mouth, initially closed, snapped open and my eyes flared wide in disbelief. The Gasman was going to be a... daddy? Soon? But he was like, freaking seventeen! What the crap?

Fang, as if reading my mind, chuckling and whispered softly in my ear, "Gazzy's almost nineteen, Max."

"Oh," was all I said because it was the only thing I could squeeze out of myself between the shock and confusion.

Fang, still chuckling softly in my ear, placed his hand on my mid back and pushed my body forward, sliding my butt across the cold, steely metal. Bewildered, the Gasman and J.J. totally leaving my mind, I looked back at him with a questioning look, but he only smiled as he pulled me over his leg and positioned me in between his thighs.

"What are you –" I began, but he cut me off by taking ahold of both my shoulders and pulling me gently against his chest. I tensed at his soft gesture, but then relaxed against him and melted into him, resting my head on his shoulder as he reached and grabbed both of my hands with his.

"Is it wrong to want to hold my girlfriend?" Fang asked in my ear, bracing his boot against the tire hump as Roland slammed on the brakes and pulled off the main road and onto a narrow dirt road.

My breath left my lungs loudly at his casual question, and I forced myself not to start gasping for air in front of him. Did he just call me his girlfriend? Did that mean he actually liked me and wasn't just keeping me around for a one night stand? Did he reciprocate my sudden feelings for him with just as much passion for me as I had burning inside my body for him?

And why did that last question sound like it'd just came from a romance novel written by Danielle Steele?

My face burning in sweet surprise and affection, I nodded against his hard shoulder, not wanting him to see my face as I blushed furiously at his tender words. "I guess not," I muttered, pressing closer into Fang's comforting warmth as Roland gassed the truck even more.

"What's wrong?" Fang asked, genuinely concerned for me.

I shook my head roughly, snuggling into Fang more closely so I'd be warmed by his immense body heat. "Nothing's wrong," I whispered, craning my neck so I could look up at him. He flashed me a gorgeous half smile, his eyes softening at the serene look on my face. "Everything's right."

His tiny grin grew wider at my words, and he leaned down to gently place his lips on mine. It was a butterfly-soft kiss, barely a touch of the lips, but I felt my heart start to pump rapidly in my chest. His hands, intertwined with mine so carefully, tightened and he started to paint sensational circles on the top of my hand.

I felt Fang's full lips curl up into a smile against mine, and I matched it with my own, grinning with him till we couldn't kiss anymore. He drew back, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, and I couldn't help but allow my heart to flutter crazily at the boyishly cute smirk on his pink lips. He was so damn good looking...

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," he whispered, his mint-like breath breezing gently, and I nodded my head before nestling my head back under his chin. He placed his moist lips at my temple, giving me a lingering, sweet kiss, keeping his lips there a moment longer than necessary. I couldn't help my heart as it melted under Fang's tender touch of his lips, and I felt myself fall for him even more.

It was then, at that moment wrapped in Fang's arms and smiling from his fleetingly sweet kiss while trying to stay upright in the truck as Roland barreled down the road, that I was aware of the music wafting from the windows.

_Chillin' on a dirt road _

_Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones _

_Smoke rollin' out the windows and ice cold beer sittin' in the console _

_Memory lane up in the headlights _

_Got me reminiscin' on them good times _

_Said I'm turnin' off a real-life drive and that's right _

_Hittin' easy street on mud tires _

Singing along with Brantley Gilbert and Colt Ford's acclaimed song 'Dirt Road Anthem,' I couldn't help but relate what was happening right now to those cool lyrics.

We were driving down a dirt road, though 'chilling' wasn't the correct verb. More like 'barreling,' considering we were on the run from cops and all.

We were laid back and swerving like we were George Jones, though that was an improper simile. I mean, George Jones did drive his lawn mower to the liquor store after his wife took his car keys while he was already drunk. More like attempted – he was pulled over...

Ice cold beer was sitting in the console, though no smoke was rolling out the windows. Memory lane was up in the headlights, and I was reminiscing about the good times when we weren't on the run. I didn't exactly know what turning off a real-life drive meant, so how the hell was I supposed to do that? Same with the 'hitting easy street on mud tires.' Wait, mud tires was a type of tire. Never mind.

And then, the most oddest sensation began in my calf, tingling its way upward to where I felt it on my butt. Confused and a little freaked out, I looked down, trying to focus in the faint light from the moon, and saw a liquid pooling around my feet and where I was, pressed up against Fang's chest.

Curious, I followed the trail and saw that it led straight to where J.J. was sitting, being held very carefully and lovingly in the Gasman's lean arms. I noticed that there was a frightened, petrified look on her face as we stared at each other, and then it all clicked.

The liquid I was sitting in was... pee. Plain and simple. And J.J.'s water had just broke. Not exactly plain and simple.

I took a calming breath, trying to soothe myself by thinking of something else, like my Mom's homemade chocolate chip cookies, but I couldn't. I had to let it be known, and we had to get her to the hospital. And then it all came out, just like I was relaying the forecast to someone.

"J.J.'s water just broke!" I screamed, and, as you can imagine, that all went down like a ton of freaking bricks.

**So, Chapter 22 is done. A little heads up: my updates will now be every Friday, because I usually write at home and upload at school, but they blocked the website. So don't freak if you only get one chapter a week. ;P**

**Also, I got a review from **the critic **saying I could be in the fall voting for something. If **the critic's **still reading, would you mind explaining what the fall voting is to me? And if any of you people reading know what it is, feel free to tell me, 'cause I have no damn idea. Thanks! :)**

**PLEASE tell me you all got that joke about the mustard running away and it coming to library to ketchup. It was so stupid. :)**

**~SoonerMagic **


	23. Chapter 23

**So, so, so, so sorry for not updating! I've had some serious writer's block, and the basketball games are really starting to get heavy now. At least I'm on Christmas break, so maybe I'll be able to get some writing in now. :)**

**WARNING: This story's almost over, guys. I'm talking about five or so more chapters. At the most. I might cry. Also, this chapter might suck some. The next one will be way better. **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

The Gasman panicked and screamed. And it wasn't a manly, deep monotone scream or a throaty, gruff holler. Oh no. this scream was like one of Ella's while going down the hill of a giant roller coaster a unimaginable speeds, real high-pitched and shrill and ear-piercing. In fact, it kind of reminded me of Star's squeaky voice. It was so weird hearing it come from the Gasman, of all people. I would've thought it'd be Iggy.

I would've actually bet money it'd be Iggy. But, for some reason, the Gasman decided to let out the falsetto, bloodcurdling scream. It was actually pretty funny...

"J.J.'s water just broke!" the Gasman echoed my previous words as Roland slammed hard on the brakes after running over a large bump or pothole that sent us all spiraling forward several feet painfully, the tires screeching on the dirt road. All of us in the back were catapulted forward, and I ended up with my face stuck in Ratchet's groin, with him screaming at Fang to get me off.

I pulled away from Ratchet's – uh – _area_ hurriedly and turned my head, searching for Fang. I found him on top of the unknown guy, pushing the dude's face in J.J.'s liquids that had been tickling my leg a moment before. Aww, yuck.

Roland turned the key and slung his door open, jumping out and making a beeline for the tailgate, running so fast he almost slipped in the fresh mud the tires had created. I watched, pushing myself up off my aching knees, as Roland grabbed the tailgate handle, lifted it up and pressed the button underneath the handle, and then stepped back to allow the heavy metal object to fall open.

Everyone instantly stood up – minus the Gasman and a now crying J.J. who had a tall, brunette girl kneeling next to her – and rushed to the open tailgate gratefully, hopping to the ground and running either around to the front to release the uneasy contents of their stomach or back a ways, striving to see what Roland had hit before he'd stopped.

Which was do you think I went? I'll be honest – I considered running over to the bushes real quick to empty the remnants of my queasy stomach, but my persistent curiosity got the best of me, and I was eagerly following Fang as he and all of our group ran back to the hole, minus the Gasman, who was trying to calm down both a laboring J.J. and a hysterical Roland.

We reached the hole, which wasn't exactly a hole, if we're being honest. It was an unknown animal lying limp on the ground with a faint crimson-like trail of blood running from its skull. I felt bad for the animal since Roland had killed it, removing J.J. and her arriving kid off my mind at that moment as I studied the motionless critter. But then I heard a rustling up in the trees somewhere and my attention was jerked away.

Talk about a low attention span.

I looked up and aimed my gaze toward a thick batch of trees off to my left, sighing exasperatedly to calm my nerves. My weary and wide eyes almost instantly caught sight of a figure shimmying their way up a tall tree, and I recognized the lime green and black swirling shirt as Holden's Nike T-shirt he'd bought a few weeks ago.

And then it dawned on me: Holden was climbing up a tree.

"Holden, why are you climbing a tree when J.J.'s in labor and there's a dead alien on the ground?" I asked loudly, shielding my eyes from the full moon so I could see him better as he responded.

I watched his silhouette as he shrugged. "I saw something shaking the bushes, and I want to check out what it was," came is explanation from over thirty feet up.

"It's probably just a squirrel or a coon," Ratchet called out to Holden behind me, and I spun around to catch sight of him as he loomed over me.

I heard Holden stiff a barely-audible rush of laughter. "It's cool, man," he called back down. "I'm just curious, and if I stay on the ground any longer I know I'll puke my guts up at the sight of J.J. in labor."

I shrugged, then realized he couldn't see me and hollered out, "Fine, whatever. But if you slip and jab a stick up your ass, don't come crying to me 'cause I'm not pulling it out!" After screaming that, I turned around and focused all my attention back on the creature, joining into the group of people who were trying to figure out what it was.

"What is it?" Maya voiced the question we were all thinking.

"Is it, like, an alien?" Kate asked, completely serious, which just made it even more funny. "You know, like a UFO?"

We all stared blankly at her, then Ratchet muttered, "No, nimrod. Aliens don't exist, so how the hell could this thing be a UFO, smart one?"

Kate shrugged, and I clapped her on the back, grinning at her stupidity. She really was smart, but I think it came and went with her.

"Then what is it?" Star asked skeptically.

Fang and the other guys all shrugged. "Iggy, poke it with a stick," he ordered Iggy. "See if it's dead."

Iggy leaned back up from where he was bent down, staring at the creature intently and trying to decipher what it was. "Why do I have to do it?" he demanded of Fang accusingly, his voice sounding disgusted as he stared between the creature and Fang, who was standing right next to me, holding my shaking hand in his. "How come you can't?"

Fang snorted. "Because I told you to," he answered, reaching down and grabbing a long, lean stick, handing it to a still-unwilling Iggy. "Now do what I said, numnut."

Iggy took the stick unwillingly and pushed his way through the crowd surrounding the immobile creature. He gingerly bent down about five or so feet from the thing, holding the stick out as far as he could and flexing his arm muscles so he could poke the dead animal firmly.

We all huddled around and behind Iggy, not daring to get any closer for fear that the thing would come alive and attack any of us. I squinted and tried to see what it was with nothing but the moon as my light, but almost instantly gave up because I was starting to get a headache and I couldn't even distinguish the individual colors without wanting to chew my arm off.

The animal looked black, with a white stripe running straight down its back.

"It's a skunk," Iggy said incredulously. "Roland, you hit a skunk!"

Roland screamed, "I don't give a shit! My sister is in labor, and all y'all dumbasses are just starin' at a dead critter! Get over here and help me!"

All of us looked at each, wondering how we were going to help J.J. since she was in labor and none of us were qualified to deliver a baby without medical assistance. What Roland needed to do was get her to a hospital so she could have the baby there, which would take a load of weight off our shoulders.

"Get 'er to a hospital like any normal human being would!" Ratchet screamed as we all spun on our heel and began to jog back to the truck after finding that our discovery didn't really matter.

But then an almost indescribable, terrible, completely vomit-worthy stench enveloped us into a large, gaseous bubble and we hit our knees, wheezing and gasping air into our stink-filled lungs. I hit the ground hard, wincing at the piercing pain of my knees connecting with a rock, and leaned heavily against Fang, who was off to my right and retching on the ground, right next to a Iggy's wiggling head.

I reached my hand up and clapped him on the back, hoping to help him as he vomited a whole two feet from where I was. I wiped at the tears clouding my eyes and cast a glance at the others, holding back laughter and annoyance as they all writhed on the ground, trying to escape the ineluctable stench from the skunk.

Tears were coursing down my cheeks, burning my chilled skin with their searing salty liquidness, and I wiped at my eyes, trying to swipe away the itching in them. _I'd just been sprayed by a skunk, _I thought to myself, looking away as Fang retched again, _a mother freaking skunk!_

Roland will _pay. _

And then Holden decided to holler, and it only made things worse.

"Holy moly, there's a coon trying to get in my britches!"

From where I was, gasping on the ground and trying to bring in any available oxygen that wasn't tainted with skunk odor, I swiveled my head and saw Holden as he all but dropped from the tree, twenty or so feet up. He was screaming the whole way down, cursing about how he wanted to kill all the useless, insensitive racoons of the world.

He landed with a loud thud on the ground, his legs buckling under him as he hit and fell to the packed dirt beneath the dying red oak. He immediately jumped up and began to unbutton his jeans, and I caught sight of a critter shimmying up his left leg.

Holy shit, he wasn't kidding!

Every one of us jumped up and hightailed it away from the skunk stench, tears of mirth, annoyance, and hatred rolling down our cheeks. Oh God, this was so good.

Kate was ahead of us – surprisingly – and when she reached Holden she slammed into him, tackling him to the ground. He let out a string of unmentionable curses at her aggressive act, but Kate professionally ignored his insults and crawled off his body. Her white hands flew to his pants and she grasped the side, sticking her fingers in the belt loops, and began to jerk the jeans off Holden's legs.

Holden, finally comprehending what Kate was doing, raised his hips and aided her in helping him out of the cursed jeans. From where I was, standing beside Fang and clutching his arm to my side, trying to suck all his warmth from him and press it into my chilled body, I saw the coon as it formed a mountain in Holden's britches, fighting its way up his leg to the wide waist of the jeans.

"Oh my gosh, are you raping him?" Star screamed, appalled, and I snorted painfully at her loud, incredulous question. Now that I thought about it, it _did_ look like Kate was trying to rape him...

"No, I'm not!" Kate screamed back, catching sight of the coon on top of Holden's right thigh. She instinctively started stomping on the animal in Holden's pants, but instead of hitting the coon, she hit his manhood.

Holden let out a loud, piercing, shrill, and high chick scream, like the Gasman had, but a hell of a lot louder. The noise reverberated around us, vibrating the air and sifting through the trees as it was carried farther and farther away by the howling wind.

I stifled a laugh. And another, and another, till I couldn't control my laughing and fell to the ground in absolute hysterics, Fang landing besides me with his arm wrapped around my waist.

"It's not goddamn funny!" Holden screamed at us all as we released our laughter in loud guffaws, the tears renewed and flowing down our cheeks unchecked.

"You're on the side of the pain," Iggy pointed out, grasping onto Fang and me both as he stumbled with laughter. "You'd be laughin' your ass off it was one of us too!"

The moonlight streamed down, casting light shadows over everyone and everything. I looked toward Holden again, watching as he pushed himself to his foot and tried to chase after the coon, and I saw the light glare off of something right in the corner of his eyes. Immediately, I knew what it was. Holden was crying. Or his eyes were misting up, at least.

It really had hurt him.

I felt so bad for laughing now.

Wait, I take that back. Holden's an ass. He deserved to have his 'precious gift' stomped on and be attacked by a coon.

At least, I think he did. Yeah he did.

Holden turned toward us, sniffling, and I fought back a wave of guilt that surged in my heart. "Let's just get to the damn hospital so J.J. can have that baby," he commanded us all, but he didn't exactly get to finish. J.J.'s pain-filled scream cut him short, and that's when we all started running.

* * *

><p>"How do you deliver a baby?" the Gasman asked us as we rumbled down the road, holding J.J. in his arms as she bawled and fought against the painful contractions.<p>

I gave him a blank look, grabbing onto Fang and Ratchet for balance as Roland jerked the vehicle to the left, storming onto a street and cutting off a large white Toyota Tundra. "How the hell are we supposed to know how to deliver a _baby_?"

He looked at him, biting his lip in concentration, and didn't answer my question.

"You know, I once watched my old man have to deliver a kid by himself," Fang announced, tensing his legs against Iggy's as Roland turned again.

"A kid, like a kid _kid_?" Kate asked in confusion.

Ratchet shook his head. "No. A kid's a baby goat," he clarified. "You know, bucks, does, and wethers? Yeah, that's a kid."

"Oh, I knew that," she replied back, flashing Ratchet a sweetly convincing smile. Pssh, she probably didn't know that the sky was blue and the grass was green.

"As I was sayin'," Fang continued, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to hold me against his side as Roland slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel in the opposite direction again. "My old man had me hold the doe down and Ratch held her legs apart as Dad started to pull out the kid."

"Your point?" Dylan asked.

Fang sighed irritably. "My point is that maybe we should elevate her legs a little, you know. Like they do in the movies; they always have the chick's legs up in this stilt-things. So Gaz should hold J.J. down and someone else should prop her legs up."

He really was getting at something, if you thought about it. It was a good idea; I seen that all the time on movies, too. But then we pulled into the hospital parking lot, and everyone went into action.

Roland stopped, killed the truck, and jumped out to run to the back and let down the tailgate. As earlier, we all poured out and ran around to the other side, giving the Gasman room to get J.J. out.

"Breathe, J.J.!" the Gasman was screaming at J.J. demandingly, and she glared at him as her body convulsed with another contraction. "In and out, in and out. He, hoo, he, hoo, he, hoo, he, hoo." He made the noise of breathing in air and then letting it out, and I watched, amused, as J.J. kicked him in the stomach solidly.

"You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you?" Iggy asked the Gasman, who shrugged in answer, a faint grin tugging at his tense lips.

The Gasman lifted up a squirming J.J. in his muscled arms, trying to regain his breath from being kicked in the stomach, and spun around, his expression frantic as we pushed through the sliding doors and skidded through the slick floor to the main desk, where I man was waiting and watching us as we hightailed it toward him.

"Her water just broke!" we all screamed at the same time, as if we'd previously practiced it, and caught the man off guard. His practically colorless eyes widened as he took in all of us, shocked at our torn, bloody, and ripped clothing, and frightened by the panicky expressions on our dirty faces.

Don't even get me started on his expression when he caught a whiff of the skunk on several of us.

"Which way, man?" Iggy exclaimed, obviously angered by the woman taking so long to point the way to the delivery room. He ran up to the counter, hopped up on it, and grabbed the collar of the guy's dark blue scrubs in his clenched fist, pulling him closer. "Which way?"

The man looked terrified, a petrified expression dancing across his acne-prone face as he pointed to the left. "Th-that w-w-way," he stammered as he talked, and Iggy let him go after fluffing down his scrub top and brushing down his bleach blonde hair.

"Thanks, man," Iggy said, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the guy's forehead before jumping down and following after us as we rounded the corner. Okay? Was Iggy gay now? I shrugged it off as we all began to run.

The Gasman, of course, was in front, running wildly and bouncing J.J. in his arms. From what I could see behind Ratchet and Star, J.J. was crying and whispering to Gazzy how sorry she was, but the Gasman was waving away her apologies and telling her how he loved her, occasionally kissing her on the forehead sweetly.

I wish I had someone like that.

Oh, wait. I had Fang. But would he do that to me if I were in labor? I thought for a second... and then my face heated at the thought of Fang and me doing it, and I immediately blocked those tempts from my mind.

_Run, run, run, run, run. _J.J. was in labor, and I knew she was in series pain. We needed to get her to a room _now. _

Then an oddly catchy song entered my mind, soothing my racing heart somewhat, and I started bobbing my head to the beat of it. _Tonight I gotta cut loose, footloose. Kick off the Sunday shoes. Please, Louise, pull me off of my knees. Jack, get back, come on before we crack. _

"Max!" Roland yelled from behind me, and I whipped my head around, forcing down a grin at his cynical expression. "Are you singin' that song _Footloose_?"

I hadn't realized I was singing it out loud till he asked me that, and I heard Fang laughing silently from beside me as we ran. In response, I shrugged, screaming, "Hell yeah! Ain't never heard no better song than Blake Shelton's _Footloose_!"

Kate snorted from in front of me. "Max, Kenny Loggins wrote the song," she informed me, and I gave her a dubious glance. "It's not Blake Shelton's song. Even _I _knew that."

Oh. That made sense, I guess.

"There it is!" the Gasman screamed, pointing at an open door at the end of the hallway with lights streaming out and illuminating the darkness of the corridor. We all pushed our legs and pumped our arms, trying to force ourselves faster, faster than we've ever gone so we could get J.J. there before she absolutely broke with pain.

The Gasman was the first into the room, which was to be expected, and he immediately started screaming at doctors to come and help his fiance as he gently laid her on the bed. The doctors came running in, all older and gray-haired, pushing their way through the us and escorting a hyperventilating Gasman away from J.J.

The rest of us just stayed there by the door, just right on the inside, looking around uncomfortably and itching to just get back out into the safety of the night. But we couldn't leave the Gasman in a time like this – he needed us, just like we needed him to help us save all the kids.

"My name's Doctor James Hardy, son," the tallest doctor said to the Gasman, trying to calm him down. "What's wrong with this girl?"

The Gasman looked at Doc, incredulous. "She's in labor!" he screamed, high and shrill and piercing.

Doc took a shocked step back, removing his large palm from Gazzy's shoulder. "Oaky, okay. Is it her time?"

I watched, dumbfounded, as the Gasman began to shake. He was scarred, like a frightened little dog. He was scared for his sister, and for his fiance. And it was weird, seeing him like this. He looked – _vulnerable. _That's one word I thought I'd never use to describe one of these country boys I was with.

"I-I don't think so," Gazzy answered, biting his lip as he fingered a rip in his jeans next to him knee. "She went to the doctors about a week ago, and they said she was eight months and two days. Is she okay? Will my baby be okay if it's that early?"

Doc smiled at the Gasman, a knowing glint in his dark gray eyes. "J.J. will be just fine, son," he said in a reassuring voice, and I noticed that everyone's shoulders relaxed some. "As for the baby? This happens all the time with first-time mothers. Sometimes they can't carry the baby for the full term, but the baby should be fine."

The Gasman let out a shaky breath, and I buried my face in Fang's shoulder in relief. "Thank God," he murmured, which I repeated to Fang, and he wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace.

"Do you know what the gender of the baby is?" Doc asked.

The Gasman shook his head no. "We wanted it to be a surprise."

Again, Doc smiled as I pulled away from Fang, though I stayed plastered against his side. I was glad I had him here with me. He was my safe haven in a storm, my light in the dark, my hero in danger. Wow, that was so mushy, especially for me. But it was true. All of it.

J.J. let loose with a bloodcurdling, toe-curling, hair-raising, China-awakening scream, and then everyone all but fell over themselves to get to her. Our group still stayed next to the door, though.

I looked to my left, slipping my hand into Fang's warm grip, and relished in the feel of his thumb caress my palm. My eyes scanned over the long, iron tables of multiple syringes holding unknown medicines, vaccinations, and painkillers. There was a clean, crisp hospital bed pushed up against the creme-colored wall, the white sheets and pillowcases smoothed down professionally.

And who happened to be lying on the bed, with his pants pulled to his ankles with Kate staring at his bare legs? Well, it wasn't Elmo, for sure. It was Holden, and I could just barely make out their conversation.

"Yo, how bad did that coon mess me up?" he asked Kate, and she bent down, trailing her finger along on a cut on his inner thigh.

"It doesn't look that bad..." she said, and that's when I turned away, my cheeks flaming at their intimate position.

Fang looked curiously down at me as I pressed my face hard into Fang's strong shoulder, hiding my burning cheeks from him and everyone. "What's up?" he asked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to pull me closer, laying his lips on the crown of my head. I pointed in the general direction of Kate and Holden, not wanting to look.

Then I felt the low chuckles form in Fang's chest, and my cheek vibrated as he released his laughter. It was contagious, and soon I was laughing too.

"This is so cool," Maya said, astonished, as she reached out and picked up a large syringe, delicately placing it in the palm of her hand so she could study it more closely.

"I concur with that thought," Dylan said behind her, his eyes wide as he stared at the object in Maya's palm.

And then, out of nowhere, Maya spun around on her heel and aimed the syringe at Dylan's heart, as if it were a gun and she were holding it toward him to kill him. You know, how they look in the movies all the time? Just imagine that.

"I vill now shoot you to death with my awesomeness!" she screamed at Dylan, dropping the syringe and pummeling him on the chest with her loosely clenched fists, tears of mirth running down her dirty cheeks. And then she jumped on him, catching him off guard and plastering her lips awkwardly against his, backing him up against a wall as they continued to kiss sloppily.

My mind went blank as I watched them and I turned my head away in disgust. Was everyone in this room on drugs except for Fang and me?

"So, how do you work the nitro thingy?" Iggy, who had wandered away from the group and was by the table holding all the tools, asked to anyone who was listening, reaching over and picking up the long clear nozzle and bringing it up to eye level.

"Put that thing down!" Doc Hardy screamed at Iggy, and Iggy almost dropped the hose from the shrillness of the doctors voice.

Iggy all but spazzed out as they Doc forcefully yanked the clear tubing from his hands and slung it back on the long metal table. "Jeez, I just wanted a little gas," he said, cackling at his own stupid joke. "All y'all doctors are too touchy. You need to get out more. I know I good strip club in the next state over called the Flyin' Dueces. What say you and a couple of your doctor buddies head down there next weekend?"

I could've died from the hilarious expression on the Doc's face as Iggy spoke, but I reduced my hysterical guffaws of laughter to silently racking chuckles. Fang and the others, though, had no mercy and laughed openly. Ratchet even had to lean against Holden to keep from falling over, and Dylan was holding Fang up from the ground, wiping the humorous tears rolling down his dirty cheeks.

After all the laughing had died down, I heard a low rumble deep in my stomach, and I pressed against my abdomen to keep the hunger at bay. "Yo, I'm hungry. Let's go raid a McDonald's or something like that," I suggested, rubbing my belly still.

"Screw McDonald's; I say we raid Walmart!" Ratchet said, and everyone nodded in agreement. "Besides, they have a McDonald's in there anyway."

He had a point, and I could use a new shirt so I didn't have to wear Holden's oversized hoodie.

"Gah, you're so drunk, Ratch," Star mused, playfully punching her fiance on the shoulder with enough force that some of my friends in Tulsa would've fallen over. Ratchet didn't even flinch. So hot.

Ratchet made an unbelievably stupid face at Star before wrapping his arm around her petite frame and announcing to practically the whole hospital, "I don't get drunk – I get awesome."

Everyone chortled with laughter, the atmosphere feeling instantly lighter and unstrained, and I heard this guy – Ky, I think – ask anyone who happened to be listening, "So, does that mean we're headed to Walmart or not?"

"To Walmart!" Fang shouted, and we all began to file out the door.

"What about J.J., y'all?" the Gasman asked, his strained voice causing us to stop and looked back at him. He was right; someone needed to be here with J.J., but we needed Gasser for the jailbreak. So who would it be?

We all thought a moment, chewing our lips, scratching our heads, tapping our feet. "Tess can stay with her," Roland said, pushing the aforementioned Tess out in the front. Her hair was cropped short and a dark red color, with bronze highlights that glowed in the overhead light. Pretty neat.

"That cool with you two?" Tess asked J.J. and the Gasman.

The Gasman thought a moment; it was obvious he didn't want to leave J.J., but we needed him bad to continue the plan. It was a tough choice, though. He had to pick between the woman he loves who's about to have his child, and his baby sister who's locked up in jail.

He went with the latter. Thankfully.

"I have to go, J.J.," he said to her smiling face, bending down to kiss her on the lips chastely, sweetly. Then he wiped a tear from his eyes, flashed J.J. one last devil-may-care grin, and raced toward us as we jogged down the hallway.

To Walmart!

**Told you it kinda sucked. Anyway. Here's your chance to contribute to the future _Kick It In The Sticks _sequel!**

**DO YOU HAVE/WANT ANY SUGGESTIONS AND/OR IDEAS FOR THE SEQUEL? If you do, PM me or something so you won't ruin it for any others who might read it. And I do have my own ideas, but I just wanted to make it a little crazier... Get my drift?**

**SHOULD I PUT BRANTLEY GILBERT IN THE SEQUEL AS A CHARACTER?**

**Oh, and the thing with the coon crawling up Holden's britches really happened to my Dad, and he scared his cousin into labor while driving. He's freakin' insane, actually. Still is. I'm not exactly sure if the thing with the skunk ever happened to him, but I did almost happen to me. He laughed when I ran away from the skunk too. :(**

**~SoonerMagic **


	24. Chapter 24

**I AM INSANELY IN LOVE WITH JACE WAYLAND FROM THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SERIES AND WILL HERONDALE FROM THE INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES! I WISH I WAS CLARY SO I COULD HAVE JACE (EVEN IF HE'S HER "BROTHER") AND I WISH I WAS TESSA SO I COULD HAVE WILL (EVEN IF THEY LIVED IN THE 1800S) SCREW JEM CARSTAIRS; TEAM WILL, ALL THE WAY! Just thought I'd share that with you;)**

**Sorry for, um, not updating, I guess. Writers block is a huge thing to blame, but I'm over it now. Well I hope so. A reviewer asked for me to update with a LONG chapter, so you can bet you're sweet popsicles this sucker is gonna be longer than all the other ones since I made you wait so long. Over 10,000 words. Enjoy;)**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

We pulled into the fluorescent-lighted Walmart parking lot, and Roland killed the engine right as all of us in the back hopped over the sides and landed on our feet with a loud, reverberating thunk. The noise caught the attention of a group of teenagers surrounding an azure blue 2011 Ford Mustang, and they glared at us hatefully, as if they couldn't believe we'd interrupted their conversation with our loud clunking on the ground.

I had to bite back the urge to seriously respond to their dagger infested glares, and I succeeded in that tedious task only because Fang grabbed my hand and soothed my blistering anger. You know, I was really beginning to think that Fang was it. He was the one for me. There would be no more searching.

But it was still too early to say that, and I didn't want to jinx it.

We all looked at each other, raising our eyebrows in a mutual agreement that we'd get in and get out as quick as possible. We began treading up the paved road, stepping on crushed wrappers of candy and other numerous objects. The streetlights above us were bright and shining, illuminating the entire parking lot, and I could see all the dark freckles on Fang's nose when I stared up at him, my heart fluttering.

The bright lights of the store were shining through the sliding glass doors that led into Walmart, and I could just barely make out a few people as they scurried along through the isles, minding their own business and not bothering to even politely glance in anyone's direction as they grabbed their groceries and seemingly limped off.

We were nearing the entrance with quickening speed, and I allowed my eyes to roam around the area clear to me. There were so many freaking people. I then remembered what time it was. It had to be around two or three, maybe even four, in the morning by now. Why were there so many people in Walmart?

There was only one thought running through my mind when we all entered the store besides the fact that I wanted food, and it was, _Let's get the hell outta here! _

Have you ever shopped at Walmart after two a.m. in the morning? It was like everyone freaking had a leg disease or something. This one woman – in her mid-thirties, with dark ginger hair and gray eyes – was limping over to the ice cream aisle, looking as if she were doing the splits. And then another guy – mid-fifties, with white hair and deep blue eyes – seemed to be racing against his 'buggy' to the other aisle.

I was seriously freaked out. But you already knew that.

"So, where is McDonalds at exactly?" Holden asked Ratchet as they both hopped out of the way of an old woman pushing her cart at speeds that surprised even me.

Ratchet said, uncertainty underlying his tentative tone, "Uh, in the back?" It was posed as a question, his eyebrows raised in dubiousness.

"So, you have no idea where it is, do you?" Kate concluded from Ratchet's vague tone of voice, her hands on her hips in a business-like manor.

Ratchet stuttered. "Well, I don't come here all the time. Hell, I _hate _even bein' in Poteau!" he exclaimed, his ricocheting voice causing a man and woman to stop in their tracks and eye us all. Fang and I politely waved at them, hoping to diminish some of their odd thoughts of us with a friendly smile, but failed mostly when they lumbered off, limping. "I can't stand shoppin', woman! So, the next time you want to know where a darn eatery place is, ask Google! It knows everything!"

Kate was stunned, as we all were, and took a step away from him, knocking into Dylan who rightened her before she could fall to the hard white granite tile below. Off to my left, I heard Star mutter "Google must be a woman, since it knows everything," and Maya laughed, trying fruitlessly to hide her chuckles from a blisteringly-mad Ratchet.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" the Gasman demanded, his hands on his hips in the same fashion as Kate had been in. He looked like an irritated grandma, and I cackled behind the hand I had over my mouth, feeling a rush of laughing tears flood my eyes.

"Nothin'," Ratchet murmured as we swerved and navigated amateurishly through the congested crowd of late-nighters. Fang had my hand tucked tightly in his, and he led me through a narrow gap in between two shoppers. The cart's handle unexpectedly dug into my side, right beneath my ribs, and I sucked in a sharp breath, a faint sense of anger flocking through me. Fang worriedly glanced back at me, and I shook my head, letting him know I was okay, even though I was slightly mad.

Roland huffed a disbelieving breath. "Whatever you say, Hawthorne," he said, reaching out and clamping his large palm on Ratchet's shoulder brotherly, as if Ratchet hadn't had a gun pointed at Roland's head a couple hours ago. "Mind tellin' us who shit in your fruit loops?"

But before Ratchet could answer, Iggy suddenly screamed, "OMGP! McDonalds is _closed!_"

At Iggy's loud, ricocheting voice, I looked ahead and saw that he was speaking the truth. The red and yellow sign had a dim tint to it, like it was a neon-lighted sign turned off and the lights were hitting it just right, making the words clearly visible. There was a large chain block that prevented anyone from breaking into the restaurant, the dark silver shining brilliantly in the light. Yep, it was as closed as a anything.

Fang huffed angrily and pulled me closer to his side; I went willingly, molding myself against him. "Ig, what the hell's up with the screamin'?" he interrogated Iggy, his eyes slit into dark, somberly aggravated discs. "We seriously need to have a little meetin' about learnin' to control our anger and swallow down the screams!"

Funny, he was berating Iggy for yelling when he himself was yelling also.

Star was rubbing at her ear, a look of annoyance and pain on her face from Iggy's scream and worry for Ratchet. "Iggy, that wasn't loud enough. People in China couldn't hear you."

Iggy snarled at us, still eyeing the fast food joint in front of us. "Haha, very funny, Star. I almost pissed my britches." His voice was thick, heavy, dripping with sarcasm. Star and I simply shared a secret grin.

Star smiled smugly and shrugged, her dark blue eyes glittering brightly in the shining lights above. "I try," she said, and Maya, who was behind her, giggled.

"So, what now?" the dude from before – Ky, was it? – asked, and in the bright light of Walmart I could tell that he wasn't all that bad looking. His hair was long and curled at his temples, forming a dark tawny halo around his angular face. His deep-set eyes were a large, bright turquoise that seemed through stare through you, and he was about the same height as me. Hunky, hunky, but I had Fang. If only for the rest of the night.

"They have this deli-type thing in the very back, next to the milk and dairy products," Roland said, rather mildly. "I mean, they sale chicken and other stuff there, too." He paused for a moment, all of us looking at him quizzically, trying to decode his impassive expression. "I think so, at least."

"You think so?" I asked, looking at him oddly, my head cocked to the side, the tip of my bare ear just barely grazing Fang's shoulder.

He shrugged. "It's been forever since I've been here," he replied as we swiveled on our heels and began making our way to the back, where the deli was said to be. "J.J. and Tess always done the shoppin'."

Dylan reached over to slap Roland a high-five. "How'd you get them to do that, man?" he asked, looking every bit like a groupie from a concert tour. "I mean, I tried to get Max to shop for me while we were dating, but the only thing she could pull off was ordering food."

I pulled my hand free from Fang's and flexed my fingers, trying to get the feeling back into them. "Oh, really, Dylan? When I asked if you'd stop by the store for Ella because it was her time of the month, you screwed that up and got her cotton balls and string."

Maya looked over at me, a cynical expression on her face. "Did he really do that?" she asked me.

I nodded. "He said Ella could make her own tampons," I relayed, recalling the day with a look of pure hatred and malice on my face.

She looked back at Dylan, who was beside her, and slapped him upside the head. "I swear, Batchelder, if you ever do that to me, you will rue the day."

Iggy, at the front of our group with Ratchet and Roland, snorted. "Haha, you got that off iCarly!"

Fang had dropped back a little bit to where he was bringing up the rear, and I looked back at him just as he rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Ig. That's a kids' show. I can't believe you still watch that."

Iggy scuffed, clearly embarrassed and offended. "I don't."

Maya, apparently feeling sorry for Iggy, changed the subject with the question of the night. "So, what exactly are we goin' to do after we grab a bite to eat? I mean, yeah, we're goin' to get those kids outta jail, but how exactly are we goin' to do it?"

Great, now I had to think. And it knew I was expected to answer since it was my idea in the first place to get the kids out. I bit my lip thoughtfully, my mind whisking me away into itself so I could come up with the perfect strategy, but then, out of nowhere, Ky said, "Sam's supposed to have a ride for us, right? No doubt he's roundin' up the rest of his buddies, and pickin' up whoever wants to have a hand in takin' down the cops for puttin' all those kids in jail who don't even deserve to be locked up. I say we catch up with Sam and the others before we even think about comin' up with a plan."

I stared at Ky blankly; I was _shocked. _In the whole hour I'd known him, I barely heard him utter any more than ten words, but there he went, mouthing off so many words that it was practically impossible for me to keep up with him.

"I say you're right," Fang said from behind me, breaking the silence that had abruptly settled over us after Ky's statement. "You're really onto somethin', Ky. I know Sam Waylons as good as anybody, and I know he sure as heck won't take this situation lightly. I wouldn't doubt if he's already got a plan formed in his head."

"Whoa," Roland breathed, looking stunned. "I didn't think you were that smart, Ky."

Ky shrugged. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

Ignoring those two whack jobs, I hiccuped loudly, then giggled slightly, my brain feeling slightly cloudy as I stared ahead and caught sight of the lighted oven of meat in front of us. "Guys," I said absently, licking my lips in anticipation and clawing at Fang's shoulder, pointing with my free hand. "The – it's food. Three o'clock."

Everyone turned simultaneously, their eyes going wide with wonder as they stared at the food in front of them as I had when I'd first seen it. I swear, if I'd have been back in Tulsa, I'd have sighed in pleasure and contentment at the seemingly endless foray of food in front of me. We all started forward at the same time, Star and me bringing up the rear, dreaming dazedly about the food – a

And then, all of a sudden, Star and I were both grabbed by the arm and jerked back, being yanked into the broad, hard chest's of men as they corkscrewed one of each of our arms around painfully, till tears were rolling down her cheeks unchecked and my eyes were watering.

"Let me go, disgusting, slimy creep," I snarled, struggling fruitlessly to get loose. Realizing it was no used, I slowly turned my head around and glanced over my left shoulder, knowing what I'd see but not exactly wanting to believe it. What I saw scared me to death, let me tell you. There were two police officers restraining Star and me, and behind them stood what looked like a small platoon of fellow cops, all with grim and humorless expressions on their hard features.

I winced at the sight, turning back around to see that no one had heard Star and me get grabbed. "Yo, losers!" I hollered, getting their attention. "It'd be nice if you didn't leave us!"

Just as they all turned around and I saw Fang's angry, worried face glued to mine, I brought my free arm up and bashed the guy in the nose with my elbow. I felt a bone crush beneath my elbow – another one for the record books – and blood immediately began to squirt from his large nose and onto my shirt, dribbling on my neck and down my back, the ichor feeling sickly discomforting.

The blow to his nose made him loosen his hold on me, and I wrenched my arm away from his steely grip, turning around to find him clutching his face with both hands. Angry at the blood staining my shirt, I kicked the cop in the shin, hoping it'd perhaps knock him to the ground. Didn't happen. Behind him, I saw the army of officers begin to march forward robotically, and on a whim I shoved the bleeding officer back into them, hoping to slow their forward progression.

It worked for the most part, allowing me a few extra seconds to escape, but then I looked over at Star, and saw tears trickling down her pale cheeks. I hesitated, half turned away to run, and was about to aid her when she cried hoarsely, "Go, Max! Get out of here now!"

I dithered for a moment – just a moment – but in that pause I'd given the other members of our group enough time to catch up to us, all looking as pissed and frightened and bewildered as I felt. Fang came up behind me and grabbed me by the waist, yanking me against possessively his chest. I didn't object, just settled back and wrapped my arms around myself, inwardly gagging at the coppery stench of blood on my back.

The officers stopped and regarded us with cold, calculating eyes. Then the one in the middle, looking terrible with his pale skin and dark uniform, began to speak in a mechanical tone. "If you come with us right now without fighting, we'll only hold you for the rest of the night and let you off of all the charges that have been made against you."

"That right?" Fang hissed out between clenched teeth, his grip on me tightening into an almost painful ache as his eyes stared vacantly at Star. I wiggled uncomfortably, trying to tell him his grip was hurting me, but, if it were even possible, his hold tightened on me. I groaned inwardly in pain, anger, and disappointment. "What if we refuse?"

The officer shrugged indifferently. "Look, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice."

Ratchet chuckled, and it was all I could do to not glare at him. "In case you don't remember, we're the ones you and my brother Johnny busted at the football field earlier tonight. You should know by now we don't do things the easy, simple way."

"Where is Johnny, anyway?" the Gasman inquired, coming to stand beside me. He glanced at me out of the corner of his royal blue eye and flashed me a reassuring grin before turning to snarl malevolently at the officers. "Shouldn't he be here? He's, like, a backup sheriff, right?"

"That doesn't matter," was all the cop said.

"The hell it doesn't!" exclaimed Fang, his grip definitely beginning to hurt now. "That's my brother!" In his voice, I could detect a electrical current of love underlying his tone, and I immediately deciphered it was love for his brother. A shock wave of appreciation went through me – Fang loved his brother, and was worried about him. As was everyone else, even if they weren't kin to Johnny. Heck, I was too, if you want the truth.

"Easy way, or the hard way," intoned the cop, acid dripping from his voice. "Pick!"

Roland sighed. "Now, I'm sure you're a smart fella, buddy. Which way do you think we're goin' to pick?"

I giggled. "The hard," Maya and I both said at the same time, sharing a glance and winking at one another in gaiety.

Iggy picked up a large pumpkin pie from the white metal aisle off to our left, sticking his thumb into the protective plastic coating around the cardboard box and ripping it open swiftly, easily. "Eat pie, faggot!" he screamed, and then proceeded to throw the pie right in the officer's face. Just like that.

The pie splattered all over the guy's face and to the ground, falling in giant thunks of cinnamon-colored particles. The cop was caught off guard and stumbled backward, letting Star go as he cursed unpleasantly and wiped at his eyes hurriedly. Star raced into Ratchet's opened arms and placed a quick kiss on the side of his jaw before turning around and taking off in the opposite direction, Ratchet's hand clasped tightly in her own. And then the cop fell back into the large white shelf, knocking it back and causing everything to fall to the ground at supersonic speeds.

It was utterly silent in the store then, as if everyone had just stopped talking to overhear what was happening between the crazy kids with ripped clothes, bloody injuries, and funky smells and the dry-cleaned cops. The only thing that could be heard was everyone's ragged breathing and the pounding footsteps of Star and Ratchet as they bounded off, hollering at us to come on. But we couldn't; it was as if the silence was glueing our feet to the white-tiled floor. Then someone – a cop whom I was irritated with yet, at the same time, happy and ecstatic to see – broke the deafening silence.

"Fang! Ratchet!"

I turned just in time to see Johnny, Fang and Ratchet's older brother, hop professionally over the fallen shelf and launch himself at the nearest police officer, striking the man in the jaw abruptly, sending the guy falling flat on the ground. We all stared at Johnny in frozen and shocked stillness, wondering what the hell we were supposed to do now.

Johnny looked back at us incredulously, as if we'd all just turned into killer octopuses with sixteen tentacles instead of the normal eight. "What're you doin', standin' around like a bunch of chickens with your heads cut off? Go, get a move on. _Go_!"

And then the fight was _on_.

We all scattered, each of us buddying up with someone and hightailing it in different directions. Thankfully, I had Fang as my partner – he was practically dragging me along, and I was stumbling as I tried to keep up with his outrageous speed – and Iggy and the Gasman were right off to my left, following loosely behind us as we zigzagged through a deserted aisle.

"Where we headed?" Gazzy hollered from the next aisle over, his voice uncharacteristically loud in the nearly-abandoned store.

I looked over at Fang, who shrugged, flashing me a cute grin, and I had to forcefully restrain myself from tackling him to the ground and plastering my lips against his. "To the clothing section!" I yelled back, my light brown eyes glittering with mischievousness and anticipation.

This was going to be so good.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, the clothing section was on the other side of the store, which meant that we had to run for what felt like forever till we could finally collapse into a sale rack of cluttered clothes. I fell down exhaustedly into a heap of boys' athletic shorts, reaching out and crushing the chilled silkiness against my heated skin. Fang landed right next to me, his head in my lap, I watched as his hard chest rose and fell with every panting breath he took.<p>

"That. Was. Insane," the Gasman mused, gasping, holding onto a metal rack that held a variety of different colored Nike shorts for support as he sucked in huge lungfuls of air eagerly.

"I don't think I've ever ran that fast for so long in my life," said Iggy, who was rolling on the ground and clutching at his stomach as if he were in pain. "I don't see how all those NBA and NFL people have so much energy. It's unnatural."

"They use steroids, Ig," said the Gasman, his deep blue eyes glinting with mischief.

Iggy stared up at the white-raftered ceiling, as if he were trying to distinguish odd shapes in the paneling. "That explains so much."

The Gasman chuckled, the pursuing cops seemingly dispelled from his mind. "Wanna hear another odd statistic?" he asked, and it surprised me that he even knew what the word 'statistic' meant. "Three out of two people have problems with fractions."

It took a moment for me to catch on to what he was saying, and when I did I looked down at Fang, who was flashing me a brilliantly glittering smile, small beads of sweat trickling down his cheek. I chuckled, wiping the sweat away. "Never underestimate the stupidity of idiots," I observed, shaking my head and closing my eyes in an exasperated manner. "They'll surprise you even when you think they're all done."

Iggy and the Gasman looked at one another, still panting and breathing heavily, with an odd, almost livid expression on their faces. "I have the odd feeling that that retort was directed at Iggy and me," the Gasman said to me, using proper grammar for once.

Fang laughed out loud, rolling off my lap and pushing himself up to a staggering standing position. "I have a feeling you're right, Gas," he said, and then immediately afterward dropped down to the ground, looking as if he were about to do a pushup. The boys and I stared at Fang in perplexity, silently asking him what he was doing with our eyes. "Get down, nimrods! They're right _behind_ us!"

Then, just like that, Iggy grabbed the Gasman by the collar of his blue Western-style button up shirt and jerked him down, a torturously loud noise echoing around us as the two friends slammed onto the ground. I winced, then instantly froze, paralyzed where I was lounging in a pile of athletic shorts.

"_Max_," Fang hissed out at me in between his teeth, his warning undertone sinking deep into my skin. The noise I'd made was too loud, and it'd probably attracted the cops' attention. Slowly, so slowly, he raised his head off the ground, squinting his eyes as he strained to see over the large rack of shirts behind me. And then his face fell, taking on an astonished and clearly vexed look. "They're comin'!"

"Hide!" Iggy whispered loudly, army-crawling to the rack of cheap jeans in front of both him and the Gasman. I watched, paralytically, as they buried themselves in the heap of dark and light clothes. Fang, following the two boys' lead, used his hands to propel himself around on the slick wood floor and scurried into the jeans.

Leaving me by myself, alone, half hidden by a cluster of Nike athletic shorts. Could this situation get _any_ worse?

Out of nowhere, a large rack off to my right was slung down, and I gasped inaudibly, forcing myself to sink lower into the clothes to evade the nine cops' immediate vision. The hem of a pair of shockingly shorts were blocking my eyesight for the most part, but I could just barely make out tall, brooding forms as the police stepped gingerly over the felled rack.

I could distantly make out the sound of their voices as they exchanged words, their eyes roaming over the spacious area of mens' clothes. One cop, the one in the very back with a flash of orange hair and bright gray eyes, turned to look at me where I was pressed against the floor, only halfway concealed by the shorts. With infuriatingly slow speed, his eyes traipsed over a shirt rack off to my left, making their way steadily toward –

"Pick me!" Iggy shouted out of nowhere, jumping up in the large mass of denim jeans. Old Orange Hair's attention was diverted from me – thank God – and every cops' gaze was swung rapidly toward Iggy, who had immediately ducked back down.

"No, pick me!" the Gasman hollered, his head suddenly appearing just as Iggy's had, and then disappearing a moment later.

"Pick me!" Iggy again, surfacing several feet to the left of his previous spot.

"Pick me, pick me!" the Gasman, perched to the right.

It registered in my mind what they were doing: they were immaturely playing that game you always saw off to the corner in stores because no one never wanted to play it. Know which one I'm talking about? Is it _Whack-A-Mole_? I hated that game with the fiery passion a killer mangos, but I did have to admit that it was pretty comical watching the faces the cops made every time Iggy and the Gasman popped up unexpectedly at different places.

"Pick me, nimrod!" Iggy said.

"Pick me, dickhead!" the Gasman said.

"Pick me, retard!" Iggy said.

"Pick me, turtle nose!" the Gasman said.

"Pick me, elephant butt!" Iggy said.

"Pick me, pterodactyl eyes!" the Gasman said.

"Pick these!" Fang yelled, jumping up into a standing position next to a rack of jeans and, in one swift motion, shoved the metal frame of the shirts over onto the cops. They buckled under the abrupt weight of the clothes and fell to the ground, being buried under the heap of denim. I looked toward Fang; his eyes met mine, a cocky grin spreading across his lips. "Run, Max! I'll meet you by the doors."

I nodded, my eyes still glued to his, and scrambled to my feet, my footing slipping on the slippery wood floor and throwing off my traction. Before giving the cops time to get back up, – though I did flash the guys a huge grin in appreciation – I pirouetted on my left heel and took off as if a starting pistol had just been fired.

Behind me, I could hear the cops' loud bellows and screams as Fang and the guys tackled them, probably initiating an all-out fight, and I couldn't help but wince as I heard the loud _crack! _of bone on bone contact. I swerved to miss an old man sifting through a cheap movie pile and jumped over a tiny toddler of about three; she dropped her ice cream and began wailing, and her mother courteously screamed obscenities after me as I ran as if nothing had happened at all.

After a moment, I looked back and saw three cops navigating through the crowd after me, their faces bloody and bruised; Fang and the guys had done a pretty swell job, even if three had escaped and were now chasing after me as I ran through the store, having to push people out of my way so I wouldn't bulldoze them over. I turned back around and focused on outrunning the police. Three cops were nothing – I could handle them as long as it was a foot race. And I was determined to keep it that way, even if Fang and the guys had thought that they were uber-tough and could take on nine cops.

Up ahead, I caught sight of a tall, leaning, white metal tower with millions of multicolored hangars draped from each row of the steeple, hundreds on every row. On the side, from what it looked like where I was running toward it, was a small ladder that led all the way to the top, just barely ten feet from touching the rafters of the ceiling. _Boo-yah_. I was breathing heavily, my heart pounding thunderously, and my lungs were burning madly from the lack of oxygen and exertion. I knew that if could just reach that tower and somehow climb up, I'd be safe from the cops.

For a little while, at least.

Approaching the tower of hangars, I looked behind me and saw three cops as they struggled to keep up; even in my exhausted, panting state, I could still outrun a majority of the people I knew. Right now, I'd never be so happy in my life to be as fast as I was. I looked back ahead and saw that the white ladder was right in front of me now, the cold bars looking like a sanctuary in the middle of a horrendous storm.

I skidded to a boot-sliding halt, having to grab onto the ladder so I wouldn't overexert myself, and placed my feet on the third bar, beginning to heave myself up. The coldness of the metal sunk deep into my heated skin, and I sighed as the wintry feel diminished some of the scorching heat from my body.

Before I knew it, I was halfway up the ladder, and I looked down to see the cops as they surrounded the bottom, seemingly engrossed in a foul argument over if they should go up and if so who should be the one to go. Then I moved my eyes upward, to the left, and saw a row of neon green hangars, barely a foot away from me. They were hanging on a long, thin aluminum pole, the tips stuck hazardously into holes on each side of the pillars holding everything up. A plan began to form, and I grinned deviously as I reached out and jingled the aluminum pole, pushing and jerking it till it was loose from the hole it'd been stuck in.

In a rush of gyrating plastic on aluminum, the hangars slid off the pole rapidly, one by one, as the pole itself fell to the floor and rattled loudly, the clattering noise resounding throughout the store with a crushing tumult. I looked down just in time, resuming my upward progress, and watched as the hangars viciously fell upon the three cops, knocking them mercilessly to the ground with their pounding weight.

I didn't stay stopped long enough to watch the rest of it; I cackled evilly, like my grandmother used to, and hurtled myself up the rest of the way, barely pausing in between breaths before grabbing onto another bar and shooting upward. Finally, I reached the top, grabbing onto an aluminum bar to catapult myself upward.

The very top, thank God, was a solid, thin sheath of aluminum that stretched out for about thirty feet before abruptly dropping off, and I crawled onto it, staggering wobbly to my feet, my arms outstretched for balance so I would either break through the attenuated metal or fall off. My muscles ached uncontrollably from my speedy climbing, and I groaned as my arms spasmed in fits of rage. Shakily, I wiped the sweat accumulating on my brow and looked out over the store, and gasped like a fish out of water, lying helplessly on the riverbank.

Up here, I could see _everything. _And I did mean everything. I could count how many people were buying chips from aisle seven; I could see the section of sporting goods and outdoor equipment where it was in the far upper right corner of the store; I could just barely catch sight of two check out employees practically eating each other's faces off next to the entryway of the store, hidden behind a cluster of metal shopping carts.

_Did Fang and I look like that when we kissed? _I asked myself in bewilderment, noticing how disgusting their slobbery spit-sharing show was. If Fang and I looked like that when we kissed – well, we really needed to do something about it.

My legs started to wobble unsteadily, and I blew it off as a side-effect of having to watch those two people suck face. Just for kicks, I peered down over the side, straining to see the cops underneath the ponderous weight of hundreds of hangars combined, but saw nothing, no sign of any life that had been buried beneath the plastic objects. Dropping to my knees, I crawled desperately to the side, sucking in a sharp breath and cursing vociferously as I caught sight of the cops climbing up the ladder. They were going slow and steady like that turtle from that childhood tale, but they'd soon reach the top, where I currently was.

And that ladder was the only way down.

One cop looked up at me and snarled, looking severely pissed off. "We're gonna get you, little missy."

I growled in anger, my sudden fear dissipating into simmering hatred. "Buddy boy, if you lay one hand on me, I swear I'll shove an apple in your mouth and my foot up your sorry ass."

And then I pushed myself up to my feet and turned, taking off in a dead run down the thin aluminum, looking over each side for a way down. There were large shelves flanking the hangar tower on either side, one overflowing with thousands of candles and air purifiers and the other holding what looked like a million clocks of every kind, but they both seemed to far to risk a jump. The aluminum beneath my feet was shaking madly; I turned around and saw that the cops had finally reached the top and were scrambling after me, practically tripping over their feet.

I looked to the left toward the candles and then to the right toward the clocks, the quick swiveling of my head enough to drop a wave of dizziness over my body. In the heat of the moment, I angled my inconceivable pace toward the right and flung myself off the side of the panel of metal.

And, before I continue, just let me tell you how goddamn frightening it is free-falling through the air toward a large shelf smothered in ticking clocks. Now that I've got that off my chest, I can proceed with the details of my fall.

The heated air licked my already hot skin, seeming to evaporate the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered on my brow, and my baggy hoodie was wafting all around me in a cloud of dark blue. The cops above me were yelling and screaming at me, one demanding what I was thinking and the other two mouthing off about how seriously injured I was going to be if I even survived the fall. At that moment, if I wasn't falling, I'd probably have pushed those cops over the side. Now that I thought about it, that sounded like a better idea than having me fall over the side.

I didn't look back, though; I couldn't. My wide eyes were glued to the shelf, becoming threateningly close to impact with my body. On the very top, there weren't clocks, but what looked like another thin sheet of aluminum, but this time millions of small holes were puncturing the metal. I raised my hands up to protect my face, bringing my knees in against my chest and ducking my head down into them, preparing myself for collision.

My knees hit first, unfortunately, and an almost unendurable pain erupted in my caps and shot through my body before the rest of me landed. Then, from the force of the crash, my knees caused me to fly backward with agonizingly fast speed. My head connected and I sucked in a sharp breath, willing the pain to ease up, and after that I felt my arched back slam into the holey metal. I winced, feeling a painful pricking behind my tightly closed eyelids, and distinguished the feeling of tears threatening to fall.

But I didn't stop moving across the metal, my body barely skimming it. I opened my eyes wide in disbelief and saw that I was skidding across the top of it, and that the edge was briskly approaching.

In the heat of the moment, I let out a loud, ear-splitting scream as I bounded over the side. A rush of images flooded my eyes: a group of three dark-haired people jugging down the wide aisle, a row of chairs and desks of multicolored fashion, a young man limping down the aisle after the aforementioned group of joggers. But the only image that really caught my attention and held it in an unbreakable grasp was the blurry white- and red-tiled floor of which I was near landing on. I closed my eyes and hugged my aching knees to my chest, preparing for the indescribable trauma of the clash –

I landed butt first on something soft yet firm at the same time – a hard cushion, maybe. A volley of grunts, moans, groans and screams erupted from my impact, only one of which were mine: the screams. I blanched at the noises – had I landed on _somebody_? – and then in a flash I was on the ground, rolling off of my unlikely savior.

"Good God!" the person – a guy, by the sounds of the voice, and the looks of the short dark hair and masculine body – exclaimed, clutching his head and writhing on the floor in pain from my sudden drop out of the sky. "How the heck were you fallin' from the sky?"

I knew that voice; it'd sent chills up my spine in trepidation the first time I heard it, and it was sending a fresh wave of glee and relief throughout my body. I sighed, even though a colorful waterfall of swear words were flowing from his countrified mouth.

"Ratchet!" I screamed, ignoring my agony and crawling over to him, throwing my arms around his neck in delight. "Holy, I can't believe I_ fell on you_! That's insane – like a one in a million chance!"

His arms flashed up to wrap themselves around my waist loosely, as if he were preparing to push me away, but then he seemed to recognize my voice and his grip on me increased brotherly till he was hugging me to him, on the dirty floor of Walmart with disabled people gawking and cops hot on our trail.

Ratchet chuckled lightly, pulling back after several moments of embracing closely on the tiles. And no, we were not embracing like _that_, to all you people who like to have dirty, filthy minds. It was more brotherly and amicable than the kind of cuddles Fang and I had had.

"Is that how we greet our boyfriend's brother?" a velvety soft and deep voice said from above Ratchet and me, and I instantly recognized it as Fang's. "I don't know how Ratch feels, but I'm not feelin' like a threesome tonight."

"Fang," I breathed, untangling myself from Ratchet and stumbling to my jelly-like legs. I looked at him, taking in his lean body, beautifully angular face, silky hair, and burning eyes. "Fang." And then I was walking toward him and throwing my arms around his neck, pulling his surprised body against mine.

Barely a second into the hug, Fang pushed me away and grabbed my face in his hands, crushing his lips to mine in a demanding action, as if he were trying to smash my lips into my face. I winced at the hard pressure he was exerting on my mouth and the violent way he was squeezing my cheeks in his hands, and Fang must have heard it, because he loosened his inflexible hold on my cheeks and erased the pain on my mouth from his aggressive action, his closed lips softening on mine and parting slightly.

Now that he was being gentle with me, slinking his hands upward and running them through my ratty hair and carefully pressing into me, I responded, laying my hands on his shoulders, gripping them till I felt my nails dig into his skin through the leather jacket he had acquired somewhere. I felt myself slipping, being devoured by Fang's luscious lips on mine, and my mouth opened on its on accord, though he made no move to deepen the kiss.

"I hate to interrupt this whole sucking-face fest," a deep and amused voice said from behind Fang and me, and we broke apart with a sigh, though our arms were still wrapping loosely around in each other. I looked toward the general direction in which the voice came from, and spotted Johnny lounging against the shelf that I'd fallen off of moments before, looking as if he was having a hard time not laughing at Fang and me. "But we don't exactly have the time to be makin' out since we're tryin' to get rid of the authorities and all."

Ratchet, picking himself up off the ground, laughed out loud, his angry at me falling upon him long forgotten. "Johnny, name me one time you've ever seen Fang this happy with a girl and I swear I'll turn myself in."

Before either Fang or Johnny could reply, a piercing sound that raptured the air, like a buzzer going off at a game and you were standing right beneath the scoreboard when it happened. It felt like my ears had split open and brain juice was about to start pooling out. I looked around the small circle of my group; Fang was laughing at my flabbergasted expression, and Ratchet and Johnny were having what seemed to be a fight over the booming racket, as if they couldn't even hear the noise.

"What is that?" I screamed at Fang over the noise, hoping he could at least read my lips if not hear me.

I couldn't hear him laugh, but I felt his shoulders vibrate with chuckles under my fingers. "We set the clocks to go off at five minute intervals," he yelled back, grabbing my hand in his and starting forward at a fast sprint. "We did it so we could distract the cops, fake them out and make them leave the others alone so they can get away." Now that we were several yards away, I could hear Fang more clearly, though I still had to strive to catch every single word he was saying.

"Pretty genius, right?" Johnny said from beside me.

"Define the word 'genius' for her, Johnny, and she might just be able to give you an answer" Ratchet said, coming up to run on the other side of Fang.

Johnny sighed. "It means smart..."

"Get out the way!" someone bellowed from off to our left, and we jerked our heads and saw Iggy, the Gasman, Dylan, Ky, and Roland all on those mini motorcycles – aren't they called crotch rockets – that weren't even two feet off the ground. All the boys' knees looked as if they were dragging the ground painfully, and I just had enough time to wince for them before my group and I were bombarded.

Fang jumped forward, taking me with him so we could avoid Iggy, and I stumbled against him just as he jumped back to dodge Ky and his pink bike. I looked behind me and saw that Ratchet and Johnny were trying not to fall on the ground laughing, making snide comments as they sped –

"Max!" Fang yelled, yanking me my thoughts, and I turned to face him, only to have Dylan ran into my left leg with his bike. I screamed and went down, rolling into a ball and clutching my leg, wondering if it was broke or not, but I didn't have enough time to contemplate that guess because Fang grabbed me roughly by the shoulders and pulled me up softly, slinging my aching, dilapidated body into his strong arms before taking off toward the front of the store at a dead run.

The ones on the bikes, from what I could hear, seemed to just plainly hop off, swipe their windblown hair back, and take off right after Fang and me because they were hot on our trail. Even Dylan, who was mouthing apologies at me when he shoved a kid about his age to the ground. It hurt, I won't lie, but I was okay. I didn't think it was broken or anything, but it was definitely going to be bruised tomorrow.

I told him just as much, with a wearily aching smile on my lips.

I looked over to the right to see an army of cops chasing after Kate, Star, and Maya, who were following us toward the front, and I winced. "Ouch, Fang, try not to bump my leg if you're going to act like my Prince Charming, okay?"

Fang laughed, though I could tell it was strained and tense, filled with relief that I wasn't hurt badly enough to not joke. "Your Prince Charming? Is that what I am to you?"

I laughed through the pain fogging my mind, just because he was great enough a guy to make me laugh even when I felt like hell. "Prince Charming is too city a phrase for you. You're my Knight in Ripped Leather and Cow-Stained Boots."

Fang grinned. "Long name," he observed.

I shrugged. "We can shorten it." My leg, thank goodness, wasn't broken; Dylan had hit it pretty hard, but he only caught the side of it and didn't quite touch the bone. I'd never been as thankful as I was at that moment for Dylan's suckish driving skills.

He had to slow down for a moment to sidestep a small, frail couple, but when he was clear he sped right back up again, and when I looked out in front I could see the sliding glass doors. And beyond them was a... a bus?

"Why's there a bus?" I asked Fang.

He didn't miss a beat. "That's our getaway ride."

My mouth and eyes dropped open into the perfect _'O'_ shape. "You've _got _to be kidding me, right?"

He shook his head, the glass doors tantalizingly close. "Sam said he was goin' to find us all a ride we could fit in."

I gulped. "But that's a _bus_!" I exclaimed, trying to get it through Fang's thick skull that Sam had stolen a bus from a school.

"Really, it's a bus?" he sad, with sarcasm coloring his tone playfully. "I thought it was a mini van."

I scoffed at him, punching him in the shoulder just as he broke through the sliding doors and the chilly late night grazed my heated skin. "Shut up, hillbilly," was my epic comeback.

Fang set me down in front of the entrance of the store, asking, "Can you walk?" I nodded, smiling at the grin he flashed me as the others all but flew passed us. "You know what I like about you, Max? We can be runnin' away from the cops – or robbin' a bank for all I care – and you'd still argue with me over something stupid."

Flattered, I said as we jogged pitifully toward the bus. "Was that an insult?"

Fang's dark eyes suddenly lost all his playfulness and turned serious, the dark orbs boring into mine till I twitched with discomfort as we neared the buses still-closed doors. "You could kill the Pope and I wouldn't be able to insult you. You're one of those people who bring the good out in people, even if their good is their bad side."

Blushing at his kind words, I opened my mouth to speak, but was caught off by the bus doors opening.

"Yo, get in," Sam said, pulling the lever that opened the tall, narrow-glassed doors. A millisecond later, we all began to file into the bus, pushing and shoving others to either get out of our way or go faster. Luckily, Fang and I were in the back of the crowd, so we didn't have to exactly fight our way through. But when I turned around, waiting for Iggy and Star to get into the bus, I saw that the cops were hurriedly gaining on us, barely twenty or so feet away.

Fang must have seen, too, because he began yelling and pushing. "_Get in_!"

Iggy grabbed Star by the hand and jumped the rest of the way into the bus. Fang screamed some unprintable words that sounded closely related to 'ducking glass bole' and grabbed me by the collar of the hoodie, practically picking me up and slinging me into the bus.

I fell on the steps, my already bruised and swelled and bloody knees screaming with another round of serious pain, and reached my hand out for Johnny so he could help me out of the way so Fang could get in.

"Max, _move_!" someone yelled from above me – Dylan, I think – and I scrambled to my feet with Johnny's help. I turned around just as Fang planted his feet on the steps and was using the rail to jerk himself upward, but a cop had already seized the back of his leather jacket and was attempting to yank him backward out of the bus.

Fear shot through me, and out of pure, raging adrenaline I hopped down the stairs again and wrapped my arms around Fang's waist tightly, trying to wrench his body away from the cop that was tugging him backward with more strength than I had. I looked into Fang's face; his expression was impassive, but I already knew him well enough to look beyond his calm exterior and see that he was mentally freaking out. But to reassure me he gave me a weak smirk, one that was as dark and sweet and wild as he himself was.

My hold on Fang was slipping; I'd lose him before too long. But then I felt strong arms wrapping around my waist and heaving me backward. I looked behind me and saw that it was none other than Dylan himself; he was shouting at Sam to drive already. Dylan grinned toothily at me.

"I'm sorry for the whole leg incident," he whispered in my ear as Sam cranked the engine.

I shrugged, as much as one could shrug in the situation we were in. "It's cool. Not broken, but sore. Definitely sore."

He laughed merrily.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Sam yelled, shoving the bus into drive and slamming his foot on the pedal. The bus lurched forward and stuttered, as if it were about to die, but then revved loudly and took off like a NASCAR racer. I peered over Fang's shoulder, making sure he had something to hold onto as Sam jerked the wheel from left to right to loosen the cop's hold on Fang.

I watched as the cop's deep gray eyes met mine. His were wide with fright and shock, looking barely older than Fang's own nineteen years, and they were tinged with horror and fright. _Let go, _I mouthed at him, feeling sorry, and the strangest thing happened.

The cop actually let go.

But then Dylan, Fang, and me all went tumbling downward onto the steps, Fang's feet still hanging out the opened door. Dylan slithered out from underneath and crawled to flank me on the left side, grabbing onto Fang's stylish leather jacket and jerking. Fang grabbed onto Dylan's forearm and used the limb to help pull himself up, and when his feet were clear of the asphalt beneath and he'd thrown himself into my arms, Sam closed the door.

Dylan sighed and said, "That was fun."

"That does it," I muttered, standing along with Dylan so we could both pull Fang up to his feet. "I'm buying you a dictionary for Christmas so you can learn the proper definition of simple words such as 'fun'."

Fang laughed, though with my arms around him I could feel how shaky he actually was. "I doubt he even knows how to spell it."

Dylan faltered in fake anger. "What'd you say to me, hillbilly?"

Fang just laughed again. "Nothing you haven't already heard."

Dylan seemed as if he wanted to say something but then looked over Fang's shoulder; Maya was sitting in the seat behind Fang, and one glance from her was enough to calm Dylan down. Shrugging it off, he pushed passed Fang and me and sat down, taking a shaking Maya into his arms. I looked at Fang and cracked a grin.

Dylan and Maya made a good couple, way better than me and him ever did.

Once we were all safely inside of the bus and hauling butt away from Walmart, Fang grabbed my hand and jerked me down the narrow aisle, escorting me to the back up the bus from what it looked like. I gave him a questioning look, but he just shook his head and grinned faintly, and I didn't object to being heaved down the short walkway.

We were at the back soon enough, and Fang spun me around to where I was facing him before tackling me into the seat behind me, pushing me back and making my legs buckle so he could fall more easily on top of me. My breath left my lungs with a whoosh, smelling of barbequed chicken, and Fang immediately began to nuzzle the area where my shoulder and neck met.

I shivered impulsively, reaching up to thread my hands through his raven hair. "Uh, Fang?" I murmured into his ear as he breathed heavily onto my skin. "Mind telling me why you're breathing like you're in labor?"

Fang chuckled in my ear before whispering, "Sorry, it was insane in there and I thought we were goin' to get caught for sure."

I nodded, raising my leg up to where it completed two-thirds of a triangle so Fang would have more room in the cradle of my thighs. "Don't make me do it, Fang," I warned, blocking out everyone as they screamed and hollered at the front. "Don't make me be the first one to do it."

Fang leaned away from me, his eyes meeting mine, and he looked so darn cute with that perplexed look on his fact that I couldn't stop a low chuckle from escaping my lips. "Do what?" he asked, genuinely curious and lost.

I chuckled even more, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Don't make me be the one who kisses you first," I whispered, and delighted in the faint glow of desire my words spiked in his eyes.

He smirked, boyishly adorable, and breathed out huskily, "Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Max."

And then his lips were on my again, but this time where there was desperation and anguish, this kiss was filled with gentleness and something else, something that was so deep and dark and sweet that it took my breath away. I wound my hands in his silky hair, feeling his heart thump wildly and hard against my chest. He was trying to be careful with me, to go slow and be soft, but I didn't want him to be gentle. I wanted him for what he truly was: a wild, passionate boy who loved his family and would do anything for his friends. Truly selfless, is what Fang was.

I pulled back a little, to where our lips were just barely skimming as I spoke. "You don't have to be gentle with me, Fang," I whispered to him, hearing the catch in his breathing and noticing how his heartbeat sped up even more with his restraint. "I won't break."

"Max," his voice came out breathy, almost like a moan, bringing his hands up to outline the shape of my lips. He had a certain hesitance about him, as if he were afraid that if he held me to tight or kissed me too hard he'd break me.

"I'm not going to break, Fang."

His body shuddered slightly, his breathing ragged as he came down on me hard, molding his body against mine. Impishly, I nipped his bottom lip, which caused him to groan deeply. "Max," he whispered again, and this time after he spoke he crushed his lips against mine with a controlled tenderness that made my heart hurt.

I tugged at his long hair, trying to angle his head better so we could get closer. He groaned something deep in his through that sounded seductively like, "Dear God, Max, this is torture." I only giggled at his eagerness.

Fang pulled back lightly, and when I whimpered in protest, he brushed my swelled lips again with his. I

ardently responded, trying to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back again, his dark eyes heavy-lidded as he stared down at me amusedly through thick black lashes. He then pressed his lips solidly on mine, just barely, and pulled back.

Stupid tease.

Growling impatiently, I cupped his cheeks in my hands and pulled him back down on me, crushing my lips to his in such a stipulating way that it caught Fang off guard and he froze. But then he was kissing me back with as much passion as possible, threading his hands through my hair and holding me right where he wanted. The movement of his tongue as it flickered across my closed lips pleasurably shocked me; my body went straight to mush and I was fluidly pliant in his arms, pushing into him with the same strength as he was to me.

He tasted just like he was – dark yet sweet, mysterious yet straightforward, secretive yet open, crazy yet calm, funny yet serious. I gasped in delight and surprise as his wandering hand slipped underneath my overlarge hoodie, his cool fingers raking across my abdomen with tormentingly slow movements. I shifted beneath him, trailing a hand down his chest and smoothing the wrinkles out in his dark shirt, pushing the leather jacket away from his shoulders.

His fingers knotted in my hoodie, and I recognized the sensation of fabric biting in my neck as him pulling at my clothes insistently. A sudden fuzzy noise, like rushing water, whirled into my ears, and I distinctly felt my hoodie start to rip apart where his hand was. I gave a ragged breath as he tore his lips from mine and wiggled down my body. I closed my eyes and lolled my head to the side, wondering what he was doing, and then I felt his moist, searing lips pressed against my bare stomach.

I gasped in relaxation of the feeling of having him skim his blistering lips across my skin, just barely grazing here and there, but planting full kisses in other places. It was an amazing feeling – like what I would imagine the person to feel like when they discovered the cure for cancer. But that wasn't accurate enough – this feeling was so much more personal and sweet, like the first glimpse you catch of your soul mate.

_Fang is my soul mate. _

I was losing myself in Fang, dangerously cresting the mark from which there was no return. And the funny thing is that I didn't want to smartly step away from the edge; in fact, I wanted to dive headlong over the border of it if it meant recreating the impossibly sweet, dark, adrenaline-filled feeling he was generating in me.

"I want you... I need you," I whispered, moaning as his lips meandered further up, to where they were cresting the rising mounds of my ribs. "To get off me." And then, with my last bit of sanity and power, I placed my hands on Fang's shoulders and carefully pushed him off me, tearing his blazing lips from my deprived skin.

Fang groaned, looking every bit like a high school teenager who had just woken up with a wild hair, wrinkled clothes, and flushed cheeks. "God, Max. You're such a tease," he breathed, standing up and holding a hand down to help me up. I looked at his offered hand; if I took it, I'd probably jerk him back on top of me and demand that we start where we left off. Being smart, I ignored his hand and pushed myself up, slipping passed him and beginning to make my way down the clear aisle.

"_I'm _a tease?" I asked when I knew he was following after me.

He shrugged. "I like teases."

I rolled my eyes, the heat and entertainment still lingering in my body from our intense make out session. "Whatever."

When we reached the front, Dylan was patting Maya's head, who was laying in his lap, and when he looked up at me his turquoise eyes instantly found the rip in my hoodie. "I don't even want to know," he murmured, blushing, and looked the other way.

Fang laughed. "I wouldn't have told you even if you did."

"So, what're you planning on doing once we're at the station?" I asked Sam quizzically, bending down so he could hear my question above all the racket. He swerved to the left, jerking the wheel hard to miss a lost and wandering raccoon. I cursed silently when my head collided with the metal, and I dug my nails into Fang's scarred palm.

"Don't ask me," he answered gruffly, jerking his thumb up and pointing directly at Fang, who was standing beside me and holding onto a high-hanging metal bar for balance. "Ask him. He's the boss."

Bewilderment dancing across my face, I looked up at Fang and found him staring down at me with a soft grin painting his lips. "Fang..." I knew he was planning something by the glimmering light in his dark brown eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, Iggy slammed on the gas, rammed up on the concrete steps, and then burst into the county police station.

In simpler words, he drove the bus into the station.

Talk about an earthquake; the impact rattled my brain. And then it was showtime.

**So, I got a lot of suggestions about having the countryfolk go to Tulsa and party down with Max's city-self, but that ain't gonna happen. Sorry! :) They are going to a city, though – Las Vegas. By the way, this is the longest chapter I've ever wrote, so I hope you're satisfied since it took me FOREVER!**

**~ SoonerMagic **


	25. Chapter 25

**I'll say it one time: I am sorry for taking so long to post another chapter. But give me some room – I have a life – and I've been busy. And I just read an excerpt from Nevermore.Can't say I'm too impressed with it, but I hope it'll get better. It's either gonna be the best Max Ride book ever, or the crappiest. **

**Oh, and I noticed a mistake in the last chapter at the end. I had Sam driving the bus, but it was Iggy who apparently drove it into the police station. Just to clear up the confusion, it was, in fact, SAM WHO DID IT. I had a brain fart and put Iggy instead. Sorry. And I just HAD to put a 'like a boss' reference in here. iFunny is my crack. **

**And yes, it's long again, because someone said they loved the long chapters, but I split it up in two, because it was TOO long when I looked it over ;) Enjoy**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Have any of you ever been in a bus and ran into a police station? Wait, never mind. Don't answer that. I'm positive none of you ever have, but take it from me. It's not fun in the very least. I strongly caution anyone who thinks they want to do it to _not _do it. Running into a county courthouse is like something that you'd see on _Jackass, _with Bam driving and Johnny in the back, screaming out at the police officers and escaping convicts, _"I'm Johnny Knoxville, and welcome to Jackass!" _

The similarities to this night and that show are insane.

And, since we're all friends here, I'll let you in on a secret. I actually believed that Knoxville and his gang were going to make a surprise appearance right at this particular moment.

But let me back up a bit; I haven't even told you the details to what it was like crashing through the front entrance of a courthouse. And I'm sure after you read them any rebellious thoughts you had about recreating this stunt will simply diminish. Well, I hope they will, at least.

When Sam drove the bus up the dark concrete stairs leading to the county courthouse, Fang's arms had flew around my waist to help keep me balanced so I wouldn't fall, and I was thankful to him for it, because falling again with my already battered body would all but kill me. But when Sam slammed on the gas and drove the bus through the large glass doors, Fang completely tackled me to the ground from the force of impact, and the side of my head connected with the metal peg of one of the seats.

Then everything was all mixed together, like a blur, as if I wasn't even there, but I could recall everything with perfect clarity. And believe me when I say _everything_, too.

The windshield of the bus shattered completely, starting out with one tiny crack before expanding into a spiderwebbed effect and splintering, shards flying everywhere. Sam screamed – very femininely, might I say – and threw himself down from the driver's seat just as the glass flew at him, but the bus kept going on through the courthouse, plowing everything down in its path. Fang's hand slipped up to cover my eyes from the airborne glass, and so I couldn't see where Sam landed or if any of the fragments got him.

By the way he screamed in agony, I was almost positive that a few shards cut him.

From where my jeans had ridden up on my legs, passed the tops of my boots, I felt tiny fragments splash onto my skin, and I hissed through tight teeth as one small speck bit into the tender flesh on my lower calf. Beside me, with one arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me against him closely, and the other spread out over my head, protecting me, I heard Fang groan loudly and utter several swear words as the glass splattered on his back where his shirt had been pushed up.

Breathing heavily, I carefully pulled my head away from Fang's protective hand and angled my face upward, trying to catch a glimpse of the others as the full effect of our situation crashed down on them like a tsunami.

I caught sight of Dylan first, since he was in the seat closest to the front where I was lying, and noticed that he had somehow jumped up and covered Maya – who was screaming rather shrilly, too, not that I can blame her – with his body by laying across two seats. His face was pressed up against the window, shielding himself from the fragments, but the way the bus was bouncing through the building and rattling everything, I could tell he was going to have one heckuva shiner on his forehead in the morning.

If the situation at hand didn't call for me to be so serious, so emotionless, I probably would've laughed.

Next, I swiveled my head to the right, and my eyes landed on Johnny as he tackled Star to the hard, dirty floor like Fang had with me. She screamed out a word that I didn't care to repeat – something along the lines of 'tucking bass hole' – but she wrapped her arms around his waist anyway and let him throw her to the ground. Because, in the end, rational thought won out over her anger, and being slung to the ground was a hell of a lot better than getting cut up by flying shards of glass.

I so owed Star big time. She wasn't the kind of person I thought she was when I'd first met her. But, then again, the night's not over yet.

Just thinking about what we had left to do before this night was over made me have a sudden flash of vertigo, and I had to coax my stomach out of the sickly state it was starting to slink in to. Fang's arm tightened amazingly around my waist, molding the shape of me into him, and I snuggled into his warmness, hiding my head as more of the windows mercilessly shattered above us.

Kate screamed, loud and shrill and piercing, and I heard more than saw Holden push her to the floor, blocking her from a spray of splitting glass as it rained down on them. He let out a muffled holler of pain and fell on top of Kate, but I knew he was okay. Well, okay wasn't the best word for it, I guess. More like not seriously hurt – he wasn't bleeding or anything.

"Keep your head down!" Fang heckled in my ear, shoving his hand in my face to block my view of anyone else as more and more glass splattered on us with a ferociousness I hadn't even knew existed.

"Oh my God!" someone – a male, by the deep gruffness of the sound – yelled above me, and I raised my head, jerking away from Fang's barrier, up at just the right moment to watch as Iggy, hair flying and limbs flailing, soared through the air, his forward progress stopped when his forehead collided with the edge of the seat right in front of me, rendering him as still as a fly in a snowstorm.

I winced; that had to have hurt worse than anything I'd ever experienced. Scratch that – I've experienced worse. Much worse. And for your benefit, my faithful readers, I will not go into detail. Just thinking about it made me shiver.

"Iggy!" I hissed through clenched teeth, my voice thick with trepidation and shock; was he even okay? He wasn't answering. Cautiously, I reached my hand slowly out and pushed his strawberry blonde hair from his forehead, recoiling as if I'd just been stung when I felt the sticky, ichor-like substance of blood coating my fingers. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said in gurgled tone, as if he were choking on his own spit.

Concerned, I slithered out from under Fang's heavy arm and scooted into a sitting position, shoving my body in between two seats while pulling Iggy in after me. Fang seen the whole thing and let me go, though he kept a protective grip on the hem of my jeans, his rough fingers tight as they clasped around my ankle.

"M'I bleedin'?" he asked, his voice hoarse as he fingered the gash on his head. "This hurts like a mother."

I giggled, pushing his strawberry hair from his wound. "Mothers don't exactly hurt, Ig."

He glared wearily up at me, his baby blue eyes squinting evenly in the dim light that coursed in through the shattered glass. The bus had stopped, thankfully, and now all anyone could hear was the screams and shouts as people in the courthouse ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, frantic on what to do. Slim fingers of light from the courthouse were raining into the otherwise dark bus, just enough that everything wasn't bathed in actual shadow.

"You know what I mean."

I shrugged. "I'm just glad you didn't say the other word, because I honestly hate it," I said, grinning as he winked painfully at me.

"The feeling's mutual," he responded, leaning up just as a piece of glass came whizzing by and slicing off a lock of his thick hair. He looked down at me, a grin gracing his bloody face. "That was a close one!"

From out of nowhere, a hand shot out and smacked Iggy on the side of the head, knocking his strawberry hair upward. "Shut your pipe hole, dumbass!" a voice hissed at him, and I craned my neck upward to see Ratchet bending over us, his eyes wide and giving off the vibe of one who was scared, yet at the same time excited.

"We're gonna play possum," Fang whispered loudly, so everyone in the bus could hear without the people running around, screaming and yelling obscenities. "Then, when they hop in and see us and start to call the hospital, we start takin' 'em out! Capiche?"

"You got it, dude!" a voice chortled from the back, and I distinctly recognized it as Roland's.

Play possum? What does that mean?

I looked down at Iggy and over at Ratchet, only to see that they both had their eyes closed tight and their bodies were limp, looking dead and lifeless in their dark clothes. But I could just barely make out the rise and fall of their chest as they breathed in air, and in the back, distantly, I heard someone chuckle before they were either slapped or punched.

Playing possum... It clicked then. Possums all the time pretended they were dead, and so, that was what we were going to do. It didn't sound too hard, I guess, but then again, I've never had to actually _play dead _before. Hmm, this was going to be interesting.

Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes softly and let my body relax, allowing myself to lean back against the metal of the bus, looking as if I were either dead or unconscious. Regulating my breathing, I felt my nose flare to take in as much oxygen available without it being too noticeable, and I thanked Holden for being so much bigger than me so his hoodie fit me loosely, permitting me to allow my chest rise and fall easily.

And then I heard the first police officer step cautiously into the bus, his shouts echoing around us, the anger and shock in his voice seeming to electrocute the air.

My pulse instantly soared in anticipation, exhilaration causing my heart to nearly flatline, and I had to take deep, even breaths to calm myself down, very aware of the slight pressure Fang was exerting on my ankle. He was squeezing my foot as if a gust of gale force winds was threatening to blow him away, using me to tether himself to the ground.

In fact, his pressure was increasing so quickly and painfully that it felt like he'd snap my bone in half. But I didn't dare say anything for fear that we'd be caught. I just had to suck it up – grow some balls and deal with it, as Ari might say.

God, I missed Ari. And Ella, Nudge, and Angel too. I couldn't wait to have them back. And if all goes well, they'll be reunited with us in a few moments.

A few other officers had joined up with the first, and now four of them were carefully picking their way down the aisle, being extra heedful as to not step on any of us, each muttering a few words and theories for why a bus had been plowed into the front entrance of the courthouse, holding what looked like twenty or so unconscious kids.

"Maybe they swerved to miss an animal," one said, his voice light, feathery, just barely there.

"Nah," another contradicted him with a booming voice. "D'you not see the lettering on the side? This bus is the property of Spiro Public Schools. They had to have stolen this thing or something."

"Guess you're right, Hank," the bird-like guy replied, and I could almost feel his eyes wash over me and everyone surrounding me. Iggy's blood had gotten on Holden's hoodie, which I was still wearing, though Fang had ripped it, and now there was a little splash of red liquid on my stomach, just barely there. "Holy! She's bleeding!"

"Calm down, Ray. We gotta check everyone out before we focus on one kid," a different guy with the same booming voice said. "In fact, why don't you let Brigid handle all the girls – there doesn't seem to be a lot of them, anyway."

Brigid? Why did that name sound so familiar?

"It'd be my pleasure, Sheriff," a sugary sweet voice called, sounding as if she were right in front of me. I felt the lightest touches on my foot, the same one Fang was holding onto, and a moment later his fingers fell off, as if Brigid had removed them. Then I felt someone lean down over me, squatting so that they somewhat straddled my waist, near Iggy's had. I bet he was hyperventilating down there, having to act as if he were dead.

I heard someone – a guy, I think – suck in a large gush of breath, and then the first cop said, "Hey, Hank? Why does that kid right there – no not him, I don't even know who that dumbass is! The one with his head jammed underneath the seat – why does he look like Travis Hawthorne?"

Without missing a beat, I heard Fang say in a deathly tone that sent shivers down my spin, "That's 'cause I _am _Travis Hawthorne, numnut."

My eyes flashed open, and were met with a pair of dark green, almost hazel, eyes, staring down at me in wonder, flummox, and what looked like aggravation, as if she couldn't believe a bus had interrupted her rather boring night. Well, that made two of us. In my peripheral vision, I saw Fang somehow push himself into a sitting position while concurrently swinging his legs out wide, knocking the guy's limbs out from underneath him.

I forced down a grin, watching as Fang pounced on the guy once he tried to get up.

"Wha'?" Brigid, confusion washing over her face as she took in the sight of Fang and Sam as they hopped up and tackled two officers, asked halfway stupidly, drawing the word out longer than necessary. Her mouth was open in a complete puzzled way, as if she'd just been handed the cure for cancer, and I took that time to shove her off my legs, pushing her easily into the seat directly in front of me.

Startled, she rubbed her head where it'd connected with the metal seat, and tried to steady herself before pushing herself up.

I was already up, taking in the inventory of the fights unfolding around me, and whispered quietly, nearly inaudible with dripping malevolence, "If I were you, I'd stay down before you're seriously hurt."

Just to tick her off even more, I winked.

Surprisingly, Brigid nodded, her eyes wide, as if she were scared of me. And I guess I did look pretty scary, with the blood on my ripped clothing, my hair flying everywhere, cascading around my shoulders in light brown waves, with the faint light from the courthouse illuminating me from behind. Did I say scary? Hmm, I meant badass, sorry.

Then it dawned on me: Brigid was the chick from the library, who Fang was an obnoxious jerk off to. I forced back a laugh; I'll never, ever, forget that. I'll never, ever forget this night, for that matter.

"Johnny!" Fang growled out from on the ground where he was wrestling with the guy that had identified him; from what it looked like, in the immense tangle of limbs and flaring curses, Fang was winning. "Get Max and the girls and go get those kids out. Leave the guys and me here to distract this douches!"

"Got it!" Johnny called back; he had been close to the back, wrestling with a police officer who had been trying to restrain Star by yanking her hands behind her back, but now he was in front of me, grabbing my hand and dragging me along, the rest of the girls following behind us.

We jumped off steps to the bus, immediately smashing into a group of approaching cops. We barreled them down like a boss, fifteen of them bouncing off us and kissing the ground with their butts, groaning and crying out in surprise. One of them had rammed into my nose, and now it hurt delicately, blood sprinkling out the left nostril just barely. But I manned up, toughed it out, and sucked it up, pressing my free hand against it and squeezing as Johnny pulled me along behind him, zigzagging through intricately spaced hallways.

"This place – it's huge," Johnny called to us once we were out of sight of any and all approaching police. "This is the main floor, and they usually put first-time offenders in the basement with the cells. It's the cleanest, and they don't have to worry about some little kid gettin' into fights with a guy like Chuck Norris or something."

I rolled my eyes; Chuck Norris had taken enough hits tonight.

Johnny continued. "When they first built this place," he began, turning a sharp left, flashing from the sight of a group of women officers, "they made sure to make it nearly impossible to navigate through. It's like a maze in here – a labyrinth, with winding hallways and never-endin' stairways."

"So," Kate called from behind me; a glance over my shoulder relayed the information that she was barely five feet behind me. "How are we gonna find the kids, then?"

Johnny, out of the blue, chuckled, and jerked me right, his hand leaving my grasp as we skidded. I wasn't prepared for the sudden turn, and in my haste to righten myself, I overshot and almost collided with a wood-tiled wall, but caught myself just in time and stepped back in tune with the others.

"They also built a collaboration mysterious tunnels in the walls," Johnny said. "The newbies don't have a clue about 'em, but us vets – well, sometimes we like to lock a rookie or two up in them for just a while."

What he was saying clicked in my mind before it even registered in anyone else's. "So, what you're saying is that we're gonna use these tunnels to evade the cops and get to the kids faster, right?" I didn't even give much thought to the weird tunnel system, or the fact that it was odd for them to even be here in the first place. I mean, honestly, who in the world designed tunnels in a courthouse?

Johnny flashed me a deviously beautiful grin, and I was again reminded of how much he, Ratchet, and Fang looked alike. They were nearly identical with their tall, lean bodies, lithe form, black hair, and tanned skin, though their eyes were entirely their own; Ratchet's were a deep, swampy green, Johnny's a light sky blue, and Fang's were so brown they were nearly black. Intense, interesting stuff.

"That pretty head of yours is smart, too," he drawled, smirking, and pumped his legs enough that he pulled ahead and took the lead, barking out orders to us so we wouldn't stray too far.

_Left, right, left, right, left, right, left..._

Johnny said that the way the tunnels were dug in to the courthouse they had to have different doors leading to different passages at strategic intervals in the building. He said there were three – one in the basement, one in the Chief's office, and one in the large stall in the men's bathroom. We were going to use the bathroom one, since it was the closest, and then run like a bat out of hell till we reached the exit in the basement, where the kids and the other people we were supposed to bust out was being held.

"So, we are gonna get Sam and Roland's friends, no doubt?" Maya asked, just making sure. I hated to say it, but I'd forget about them – it was kind of hard to force your mind to concentrate on other people when your heart was crying out for your younger siblings. Just a little, helpful piece of logic for ya!

Johnny nodded. "No doubt," he said. "We owe it 'em. They helped us get this far, and let's face it – none of y'all would've made it if Sam hadn't been at that old man's house to save your asses."

From behind me, to my left, I heard Kate moan, and then mutter, "Did ya have to point that out? I mean, come on! Let us forget about that... Please?"

Johnny only laughed. "Whatever."

The next five minutes were spent trying to find the bathrooms and not talk for fear that we would give ourselves away. Since I was in almost every sport imaginable at school, I wasn't having a hard time keeping up with everyone else, but I was having to push myself because my body was hurting. Sure, I'd suffered numerous injuries while playing, but none of them had ever actually hurt me before. All the wound I had now – cuts, bruises, possible broken bones – were real and painful. Really painful.

But it wasn't' like I was about to voice my pain or anything. I just didn't do that kind of stuff.

The courthouse was old-fashioned in the way it was put together. By far, it wasn't too old or out of fashion, but it was different, a fresh breath of relief from the way I imagined it would be.

The walls were dark, with wood-paneling, and had pictures or other numerous things etched in to them, giving off a museum-type appeal. Doors were spaced about twenty-five feet apart, all hanging wide open as if the people inside had abruptly run out and forgot to shut it. It smelled old, like leather and musk, but it didn't stink. In fact, that smell was slightly nice, intoxicating, relaxing in an odd way.

Yep, this place definitely wasn't anything I'd have expected it to be.

All in all, it was nice. I liked it, better than Tulsa's too-big, too-bright courthouse. At least this one gave off the country vibe with its dimness and musky scent.

"Yo, mens' bathroom, straight ahead, twenty-five yards," Johnny called out, dragging me from my mind wonderings.

I looked up, surprised that my wondering had taken up so much time, focusing on the large wooden door materializing at the end of the long hallway, with the international symbol of a male taped right on to it. Thought, instead of saying 'men' like it was supposed to, it read, in bright, neon green letters outlined with blue: _Dogs._ On the women, I expected it to say _Cat. _

How appropriate, world. Never would have thought hillbillies in Oklahoma knew how to make a joke. Just goes to show how surprising this place really is.

I pushed myself, pumping my arms at my sides, and pulled up alongside Johnny in the front just as he began to slow as to not slam face first into the door. We looked at each other, flashing a cheeky grin at one another, and then put the brakes on to slow ourselves down. The others, closely behind us, nipping at our heels like a beagle would a fox, were slowing as well; it wouldn't do any good if we all ran into each other and knocked ourselves out.

Johnny, after sparing us a glance that told us to shut up, tried the golden brass handle, jerking and wiggling fiercely, only to find out that it was locked indefinitely.

"Damn thing's locked," Johnny stated the obvious.

"Knock it down," Kate said simply, huffing strongly, her hands on her hips in a demanding manner. Johnny just grinned hugely, reminding me insanely of Fang, and I then remembered that him and the other guys were back, still probably in the bus, fighting to give us time to get the kids out. And they were outnumbered, badly.

Without thinking – which I was amazingly good at, if you could believe it – I hiked my leg up and kicked the door down, wincing when my tensed foot connected with the hardwood and slammed it in. A loud noise raptured the air, the sound of splintering wood and slight gasping, followed by me jamming my foot again in the hole it had left first.

The door then fell forward, giving way to the bright light flooding the bathroom, nearly blinding me.

Johnny and the others looked at me approvingly, smiling and nodding in appreciation.

"Nicely done, Max," Star said briskly. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

Maya snorted. "You probably couldn't have done it at all, Star," she said, though lightheartedly smacked Star on the shoulder, who was smiling at the release of tension in the air.

"Why must you degrade my ability of being ruthless?" Star asked, though neither one of them spared me a glance as they stepped over the fallen door and walked through. "It's not my fault my mama raised me as a debutant."

Debutant? I thought they were only in Texas? Mind-blown.

I looked behind me; Kate was giggling loudly and Johnny was opening his mouth to say something, but before he could he was rendered silent by the tumultuous shriek coming from the last stall in the bathroom.

"Oh my God! Was there another earthquake!"

_Whaaaaat?_

"Johnny, do something, man!" Maya screamed, glancing at him desperately and pointing frantically at the end of the large, bright-as-hell bathroom, as if there were a fire and something she treasured dearly was about to be burned lest he not save it.

"What is it?" I asked, lost, incredulous, wondering what in the world was going on.

"Dear Lord, is there _chicks _in the gents room!"

That time, for sure, I could infer that the person screaming was man by the words and gruff tone. His voice reminded me of Larry the Cable Guy, possibly drunk on moonshine with a few dozen bottles of Busch.

Wow. Horribly hilarious mental image right there. Yuck.

Maya, thankfully, provided the helpful information. "There's a guy in the biggest stall, where the tunnel door is."

I nodded. "Ah."

Johnny, now ahead of the group and kicking ferociously on the stall door to break it down, was answering a string of curse words with his own original band of swearing shouts that would even make Eric Cartman frown.

"Get your fat ass out of the damn bathroom, you stinky mother fu –" You get the point, I'm sure. And that was one of the clean things he said.

And the guy was responding back just as crudely, talking about how he was going to break off the toilet handle and shove it up Johnny's butt and twist it so he'd flush himself out. Yeah, it didn't make any sense to me, either, but that was what he said. Quite loudly, too, as if he had a bullhorn jammed up to his lips and was all but yelling in it.

Finally, after a few long moments of Johnny kicking, the door swung open, and I pushed my way to get beside him, taking in the sight before me. A larger man with rusty hair and a shaggy, unkempt beard was sitting on the toilet with his pants around his ankles, hiding his baby blue and brown boots, holding a news paper with the headline of 'Teacher Fired For Asking An Overweight Student If He Ate His Homework'.

Clever, America. Real clever.

I whistled at the man frivolously, jerking my thumb over my shoulder as to let him know he needed to get out. "Yo, get your pants up and book it. We need this stall."

The man looked behind me at all the girls and then back and forth between Johnny and me, a peculiar look on his face, scrunching his rustic eyebrows together, looking like a straight line on his deeply tanned face. "Are y'all havin' an orgy?"

I was caught off guard, as usual, and stumbled over words to refuse any accusations the man was about to throw at us before he said, "Can I be invited?"

Johnny groaned, then let loose with a round of chuckles. "Get out, Alan. There ain't no point in you bein' here."

The guy – Alan – made an angry noise and did as Johnny said, pulling his pants up modestly by turning around and hiding himself, all the while muttering about how he thought he was missing out on the best thing of his life.

As he was walking passed me, I winked at him, just to get a laugh, and he was so shocked, numb down to his feet, that he tripped and landed on Kate, who kicked him in the shins and pushed him down to the floor. Mean, but it was fun. And besides, he deserved it. How did he conclude that we needed the large stall to have an orgy? I mean, seriously. Come on, man. Grow up. Although, I had read somewhere that only 69% of people ever actually grow up.

Haha, 69. Classic. I sputtered, grinning, trying to hide my smile because it was inappropriate at the moment.

"Where's the door?" Star asked, severing me from my immature thoughts.

Johnny gestured to a spot behind the toilet, outlined with white silicone and a little darker than the rest of the white walls; it stood, oddly, in a soft ivory color, beautifully contrasted with the snowy walls surrounding it, with a diamond-like knob poking out from behind the toilet.

Oh. Smart to hide it behind the toilet. One question, though. How were we supposed to get to the door when the toilet was _in the way_?

Johnny, as if he'd just read my mind, said, "The toilet sits on this spinning thing that slides to the side. All you have to do is push it and it moves." With that, he proceeded to whistle for Star's help and push the thing to the left, revealing the ivory door in all its glory.

Kate popped up beside me, to the left, with Maya on the other side. "Can I open it up?" Kate asked eagerly, bubbling with joy and enthusiasm. Was she on something questionable?

Johnny cast a side glance at me, silently asking what was up, and I shrugged; he nodded, grinning slightly, saying, "Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out."

Kate shrieked happily and ran to the door, grasping it by the diamond handle and proceeding to jerk. I thought it'd simply swing open, giving way to the darkness I knew always occupied tunnels, but it didn't. She jerked too hard, and so it swung back with enough force to hit her in the nose and knock her flat on her butt, the noise reverberating through the room like a strummed guitar string, vibrating, pulsating.

I, along with all the girls and even John-Boy, burst out laughing.

Johnny looked strangely down at her, offering his hand to help her up. "I didn't mean that in the literal sense, Kate," he announced, placing his arm around her waist to steady her.

Kate wobbled dizzily, acting as if she were drunk and leaning against Johnny, but I caught the fox sly smile she flashed him before allowing him to support all her weight. Awareness bubbled up, and I said, very carefully, "Get in the tunnel, Kate, and quit playing eye-hockey with Johnny."

Did I like Johnny? Yes, but not like that. Fang was my man. It just irked me that she was being all touchy-feel with Johnny while she had a boyfriend, though I had been doing the same thing earlier. Maybe I should start practicing what I preached.

"Whatever," she said and rolled her eyes, though she did disentangle herself from him and step into the tunnel, being swallowed whole by the utter black murkiness of it. I shivered; was I really going to endanger myself by going through a tunnel that was as black as a anything?

The answer, though however idiotic, was yes, I would. Just for my siblings, though. That was it.

"You comin' or what?" Kate called from the darkness, and I ushered everyone else in before me.

Last was Johnny and me, both looking at each other expectantly. "You're next," I said, still slightly unnerved by the complete blackness of the tunnel. The dark was like an actual thing, stretching its crazily evil fingers out and wrapping around me, pulling me under its influence and turning me over to the dark side.

Freaky.

But I had to live with it. Being attacked by the darkness was something I had bargained for when I asked my parents where kids had come from and they'd said Mom pooped them out.

And besides, it wasn't like I could tell anyone I was scared of the dark. That just wasn't right.

He flashed me a cheeky grin, identical to Fang's. "Ladies first."

I chewed on my lip, nodding, shoving my fear down into the lowest, smallest pore of my body and stepped into the opening, gasping as the infinite black closed around me and drug me in, its multiple fingers digging into my shoulder blades and ribs as it yanked at me relentlessly. I screamed, fighting back the urge to panic, and lashed out with my feet; my left foot connect with something hard, and was followed by a loud yelp I assumed was Maya.

"Ouch! Why'd you kick me?" she demanded.

"Why'd you scare me?" I countered, my heart beating so fast it was almost pounding from my chest.

"Good point," she said, and I inferred that the matter was dropped.

I turned back around to face Johnny with an expectant expression, only to find him still outside in the bright light, a grim look on his handsome face.

"You comin' or what?" I asked, false hope leaking into my tone.

"Max, I'm headin' to the upper levels to get Roland and Sam's gang, okay?" Johnny said, holding the door open, looking at me with pleading, dilated light blue eyes.

I sputtered, "I don't know how to navigate through these tunnels." Was he insane? He couldn't just leave me! With my luck, I'd get lost and raped by a mouse or something.

He chuckled. "It ain't that hard. Just take left every time, and in about five or so minutes of bookin' it, you'll wind up at the opening to the basement. You just go in and head straight for the back – that's where the cells are. I'll meet you back up here in fifteen minutes," he explained. "Cool?"

I wanted to tell him no, that this was not cool. That nothing about him leaving us was cool, that we needed him because leaving me in charge, right now, was disastrous – I had no idea where to go, and even then I didn't know how I'd get them out of the cell when I found them. I needed _help. _Actual help, and not just some sissy study lesson.

But I didn't say it for fear I'd let on that I wasn't as strong as I was making myself seem. Instead, I swallowed my fear and pushed myself to say, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Meet back here in fifteen, gotcha," I said, hoping I sounded convincing. "Oh, and just so you know, I'm keeping track of time right now, hillbilly. Better hurry!"

Johnny left me standing there alone, with the girls clustering thickly behind me, whispering silently amongst themselves, and he was laughing loudly the whole way out of the bathroom and into the main hall from which we'd come.

Jeez. Men. They think everything in life is funny.

**PAGE BREAK**

"Left!" I screamed over my shoulder behind me, letting the girls following closely at my heels know that there was a turn coming up and we needed to take a sharp left. Like we'd been doing for the passed five minutes.

We'd hit about five or so corners, turning left at each one like Johnny had said, and I knew we were getting close to the basement; I couldn't explain how, but I could feel it, in my body, in my heart. My parents had always said that my brother and sister and I had this weird sibling telepathy thing because we always knew when the other was hurt or sad or mad.

Right now, I have never believed more religiously in something than that as I did at the moment.

Maybe we did have telepathy powers. Or maybe I was just messed up in the head and needed something grounding to believe in so I didn't lose my balance and sever myself from the gently tether that kept me stationed on the ground. Wow.

"Max, we almost there? I can't take much more running," Kate called, breathlessly, from behind me. I winced; Kate was in shape, but not better than me, so I knew running was taking its toll on her terribly bad. But we couldn't stop, not yet, not when we were so close t rescuing them.

"I know," I hollered back, letting compassionate understanding leak into my tone. "But we can't stop. Just a little further, and then we'll be there –"

Fortunately, I was right when I'd said we were close. Unfortunately, I didn't know where the door would be, so instead of slowing to gently come on to it, I ran right smack-dab into the thing, knocking it down.

Pain eased from my nose, blood splattering everywhere, and I cried out loudly, pressing my hand against my gushing nostrils while I fell. Agony was making my already-bruised knees throb even harder, pain mounting and mounting till it crested a large hill and fell over, taking the hurt to a whole new level. Anguish was evident in my cries of torment as I fell, clattering on fractured wood, landing in a damp, dark room that smelled filthy, as if the air were clinging to all the horrible odor in the room.

Then it was all silent, like it was just before a tornado hit.

"Who's there?" a voice – familiar in the way it was yelled and toned – sliced through the air and dreamily pulled me to my feet.

"Ari?" I called back, hoping it was him, praying that it was him.

"Max!" came another voice – Ella, for sure.

Warmth flowed through my chest, and I followed their voices, running without restraint through the dimness, smiling as I heard the others fall into step behind me. I couldn't believe I'd found them, running blindly through tunnels and cutting corners defyingly, as if I didn't care about my own life. Adrenaline, pure, raw, and tortured, pulsated my veins, making me go impossibly faster than I already was.

"We're coming, guys!" I yelled back, my scream choked by the blood pooling in the back of my throat. "Just hang in there a few more minutes."

Thank goodness we found them. I was lost without my brother and sister; they were two of the most important people in my life, and I couldn't have bared to leave them here for our parents to find when they came back from Oklahoma City. I couldn't. The blood in my veins was there's, and blood relatives had to stick together, no matter what. It was a rule with us – where one went, we all three went.

Something large, looming, was manifesting from in front of me, and I slowed once I realized it was iron bars. Ari, Angel, Nudge, and Ella were on the other side of those bars, looking disheveled and bedraggled, as if they'd been awake for years. Their hair was messed up, sticking all over their heads, and their faces were filthy, testifying to the fact that they'd had one hell of a night.

And it wasn't over yet.

And then I was at the bars, embracing Ella through them, laughing while she cried into my shoulder, trying not to let any falling blood land on her hair. Ari was there, tugging at my hand and slipping his in mine, intertwining our fingers as he gasped loudly, out of breath from joy and total happiness. Nudge was hugging Ari's back, desperately clinging to him as if he were her lifeline, and all I could do was smile.

Then the others were beside me, sticking their arms through the bars and hugging the kids as they disbanded from me and flocked out, greeting each of us with a new smile and heartfelt tears. Angel was standing before me, and instantly I pressed up against the bars, clasping her in my arms through the bars. My hands were flying through her curly, snarled cornsilk hair, tugging at the knots, wincing as she did.

"I'm glad you came," she said breathlessly against my chest, and I nodded. "The keys are on the wall, by the way. I saw the cop hang them on a nail or something."

"Star –" I began.

"I got it, Max," she said, coming beside me to pat me on the back before feeling her way toward the wall. I smiled gratefully at her back before returning to Angel to hug her senseless again. God, but I'd missed her. I'd missed all of them. I was glad – amazingly, extraordinarily, insanely, beautifully, indescribably glad. It was like there had been a weight on my chest with their absence, and now that I had them back that weight was lifted, giving me room to breathe again.

It took Star a few minutes to find the keys, and when she did, she exclaimed powerfully, her voice rattling off the concrete walls.

I pulled free from Angel with a regretful smirk and accepted the keys when Star placed them in my palm. I giddily felt around for a lock, chirping with joy when I did, and stuck the key in, jiggling hard, cursing when it got stuck. I turned it the other way, and felt a rush of tears spring to my eyes when the doors opened.

I jerked the bars back and then stepped in to the cell, grinning widely.

"Nice of you to drop in, Max," Ari went on conversationally, as if we hadn't just been separated by rows of large iron bars. "I was almost getting worried. Waiting for you is like waiting for rain in the desert: you don't know if it's coming or not."

I stepped forward and embraced Ari in a tight, possibly crushing hug, pulling him to me and sucking in a hard breath when his arms went around me as well. "You know I'll always come. I can't ever leave you or Ella to fend for yourselves," I said against his shoulder, my voice muffled as I pressed my face in to the rough fabric of his shirt. "Besides, Mom and Dad would kill me if I even thought about coming home without you two."

"Course they would," he said, pulling away and allowing me to tug Nudge into a hug. She was crying, blubbering against my shoulder, shuddering while she talked about how scared she'd been.

"God, Max, I love you for this!" she whispered harshly in my ear, but despite the harshness I knew it was heartfelt.

I opened my mouth to express my gratitude toward what she'd said, but was cut off by Fang – coming out of nowhere like always – shouted, "Get up and get out! We have got to get the hell out!"

He came roaring up in front of the cell, gasping, grinning wickedly, with a small army of other people running behind him. In the congested crowd, I saw Johnny, with a pack of followers whom I deducted was Sam and Roland's gang. They were all safe, and together again. _Finally_.

"Max," Fang said in a warning tone. "I don't mean we can go tomorrow, or the day after that. I mean _right now. _That toilet ain't gonna hold them for long!"

Then it all sunk in – we were on the run, again, as if we were jut flirting with the idea of getting captured. I grabbed Nudge by the hand and darted out from the cell, immediately shoving into overdrive as I thundered through the basement. I had no idea where I was going, only that we had to get out.

And we had to get out now. So sweet, that they gave us enough time to catch up. I heard distant screams and knew that they were close, and poured on the speed.

Running, right now, was everything. If you weren't fast, you were a goner. That was how it was. That was the way the world worked. To live – to be _free –_ you had to be fast. Simple as that.

**Haha, part two is next my lovely little birdies! Oh, and I do love Larry the Cable Guy, just so none of you thought I was making fun of him. He's pretty funny... **

**~ SoonerMagic **


	26. Chapter 26

**And here's the second part. Maybe you won't be too disappointed. And yes, responding to a reviewer, I do care about all my readers. They're the reason I write, I swear. Hope you enjoy. **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC**

"Max!" Johnny screamed from behind me, his voice slicing through the thick darkness of the basement as we ran, blindly, through. "The stairs are comin' up right in about thirty seconds! When you hit them, you run up them as hard as you can and then there's a hatch up top – I don't care how you do it, but get it open. That's the way out."

"And Max," Fang called, closer, his voice almost like a hot breath licking my neck. "Whatever you do, don't stop. Do not stop. You hear that? The hatch leads out into the street, and run across it to the building beside this one – head for the back. There's a door there that's brown and has a brass knob: stop there and wait on us."

I digested it all, thinking it over and burning the directions in my brain so I wouldn't forget them. Nudge's hand, soft and small in my bigger, rougher palm, was gripping my fingers as if she were trying to squeeze the blood out through the tips. I winced, trying not to focus too much on the pain and just suck it up so I could do as Johnny and Fang had said and get out.

"Gotcha!"

There was only three sounds in the basement right at that moment: one was the loud, vociferous screams coming from behind us, closing around us and squeezing, suffocating, giving us extra adrenaline to get away from them. The second was our pounding footsteps, beating down hard, echoing around and splintering the air like glass being broke from a window, shattering even more as it fell to the ground. And the last was our ragged, deep breathing, seeming as if we were sucking in any available oxygen that might come close, using it almost as fast as we received it.

And then, suddenly, there was another thundering, nerve-racking sound that joined the rest, so scary that it frightened the ghosts from their graves and made feathers fall from the angels' wings.

It was me, because I ran into the damn freaking stairs, since it was dark and I _couldn't see anything. _

Pain erupted in my lower shins, knocking me to my knees, bringing Nudge down on top of me. The breath flew out of me instantly, leaving me gasping like a retarded seal as I landed on the stairs belly-first, snapping my ribs against the hard wood. They didn't break, miraculously, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like I was on fire, the flame rising and kissing my body with its deadly, fatal lips, almost tipping me over the edge of no return.

Dear God, it _hurt. _So bad.

I didn't even have time to lay down and wallow in misery like I would've done; hands were at my shoulders and my waist, gripping me gently and pulling me up, whispering sweet words in my ear and telling me that I needed to keep going and that I was going to be okay.

_Fang. _

"Max, you're so stupid, but I can't help but like you," he whispered, hissingly, laughing lightly. "You're supposed to take a step when you go up stairs. But you're gonna be fine, just keep going. Keep going."

I was nauseous from the pain, and dizzy, and cold, and hurting. No matter what you may think, I most certainly was not invincible. I did, in fact, get dizzy and cold and hurt. I wasn't Wonder Woman. But I was damn close.

Fang's hand tickled down my shoulder as we ran and intertwined with mine; it was so dark in the basement now that I still couldn't see anything clearly, but I could make out shapes and figures. Several people had passes me while I had fell, and now Fang and I were in the middle of the crowd, stomping up there stairs and cussing as we tripped and skidded, most of us holding onto somebody else so we could balance better.

The stairs were high and flanked by cement walls on either side, maybe six feet apart, so there wasn't very much room in between, and we were squishing in, trying to fit, hoping we wouldn't fall and hurt ourselves as I had. My shins were still hurting, and I knew it was rendering me from running my fastest, but I couldn't help it. I was hurting too bad to give it my all.

How come I just couldn't _give up_?

And then, just when I thought the black darkness would devour me whole, light was flooding through the hatch at the end, illuminating everything, giving a clear sheen of glowing brightness to anything it may touch, bringing it out of the murky blackness.

I forced down a whoop of joy and pumped the adrenaline into my blood, ignoring the biting pain, quickening my pace so I could reach the light faster. Faster, faster, faster...

And then I was there, with Fang by my side, his heat radiating from his hand leaking into my skin and warming me to the bone. I sighed in pleasure, allowing the light to wash over me, bathing me. God, it felt wonderful to be out of that darkness. I didn't ever want to get back in anything dark ever, ever – ever – again. And I hoped I wouldn't.

"Don't stop!" Fang said to me, jerking me along behind him, smiling at me as others – people I didn't recognize but undeniably trusted – flooded out from the hatch and then kicked it shut. "We need to get to the school, now!"

The school? Oh God, what was happening now?

**PAGE BREAK **

"Bobby pin!" Fang yelled, throwing one hand up in the air while jiggling the lock relentlessly with the other. It seemed so plain, ordinary, with its dull brass and simple single-key lock. How in the world did that puny thing keep out intruders? "I need a bobby pin _right now_!"

I swiveled my head, looking for Nudge; she was combing through her dark brown curls, taking out a metal clasp from her bangs and tossing it toward Fang, who had his hand out, waiting.

He flashed Nudge a thankful grin. "Thanks, kid." Then, working furiously, he stuck the metal pin in the lock of the door and rattled the knob while simultaneously jiggling the object in the keyhole. After a moment of swear words and kicks aimed at the door, the entrance suddenly opened, and we were bathed in the darkness leaking from the room.

"Everybody in," Johnny, behind me, said as he started pushing people in carefully but swiftly, looking back over his shoulder every few seconds or so to make sure nobody was following. The shouts of the officers could still be heard, but they were faint, indirect, as if they hadn't seen us hang the hard left and run like a scolded dog to the convention center.

Had they seen us?

"Fang, did they see us turn down there?" I asked as I was swept passed him with Johnny's hand on the small of my back. I strained my neck to see as he looked back behind him with wide, almost enthusiastic eyes, the fiendish grin twitching across his mouth sending chills up and down my spine.

He shrugged as he stepped into the room and shut the door, infinite darkness pervading all around, encasing us in its steely, suffocating grip. "Guess not," he whispered, his voice sounding close in the darkness of the room.

I took a step – and then immediately fell someone's leg catching my foot and tripping me. "Oomph!" I exclaimed, my head knocking against something hard and thick, like the leg of a table. Fang, in a rush of boots and leather, fell down behind me with a _whoosh, _the breath leaving his lungs as he hit the ground.

"Ow!" he hissed in my ear, pain coloring his tone.

"Excuse me!" Ella shrieked, followed by a resounding slam on the floor. Had she fallen, too?

"Bless you and pardon me!" Roland screamed, sounding as if he were underneath me. My hands flew out and touched something rigid, hard. A leg, clad in denim jeans. Wait, he was...

"Ari!" Nudge deafeningly cried.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Calm down," Ari replied back, unruffled, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to catch the panicking undercurrent in his tone. "Where's the light at, Fang?"

From behind me, I felt Fang's hands drift around my waist and pull me against him, away from Ratchet, who was on the floor in front of me, writhing in pain and humor, it seemed. "Er – I'm not exactly sure," he answered loudly, making sure everyone heard him. "It's been forever since I've been here."

"Well, someone really screwed this up," Sam said simply, from off to my left, sounding indifferent about the whole situation.

Fang chuckled, the wind coming from his lips tickling my nape as he pulled me ever closer, spooning me by molding us together. Our position, and the darkness surrounding was almost too much, almost enough to send me over the edge. I wasn't sure if I wanted anyone to find the light switch or not.

"There is no room for negativity in here, my dear Samuel," Fang spoke, rather cheerfully.

Next it was Ky who spoke. "Do you often find yourself suffering from intense mood swings, Travis? Because of you, I, for one, am suffering from severe whiplash, thank you very much."

Fang growled carnally, tugging me further and further into him, like he could fuse my body with his. And the way he was breathing – deep, shallow, and raspy – made me realize that he was enjoying this. He was enjoying every moment of this, with me pressed into him, my legs divided by one of his.

"Ky, was that you talkin'?" the Gasman asked, a tumultuous noise following his words. "Sorry, I thought that was a rat or something."

Before Ky, however, could blow up at Gazzy for his horribly angering retort, Angel cut in and said, "Guys, in case you've lost your minds, we have no time for fightin'. We need to get out of this place, and get some where we can hide until all this blows over."

There were grunts and shouts of agreement following her short announcement.

Fang sighed, pushing into me as if he couldn't get enough, his lips descending upon my neck, sucking and licking and biting. Then, after long, tantalizingly ardent moments of suckling, he was pushing me away almost roughly and rolling backward; by the sound of his pounding feet on the ground, he'd gotten up. I sighed, already missing his enveloping heat.

"First off," he began, reaching blindly down for me, "we need to find the lights, because I don't like bein' in the dark. Freaks me out." As he was talking, he was pulling me to my feet, and now my body was flush with his, and his hand was curling in the fabric of my hoodie on the small of my back, and he was jerking it up slowly, taking his time, letting his fingers brush my skin. I gasped, then he was pushing me away again, and I fell back into Ky, who thankfully caught me before I fell.

"You good?" he asked, his hands flying to my waist to steady me before I fell over.

I nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see, and said, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay," he said, softly, and removed his hands. I felt a grin break out and stepped away from him, wishing I knew what Fang had been thinking when he'd yanked me into him roughly. Not that I was complaining – I liked it a little too much.

I took a step, and then the hairs on my neck stood straight up.

Whoever coined the phrase 'as quiet as a mouse' has apparently never stepped on one before. And, let me be the first to tell you, those things are the quietest creatures while they're scurrying around in the shadows, but when you step on one and all but break the poor thing's back, it sounded like a miniature bullhorn.

Add my shocked scream and several others' hoops of surprise and it sounded as if a tornado siren was going off right in someone's ear.

"Oh my gosh! Shut her up or something!" Through my hollering, I could tell that this was Johnny, sounding irritated and frightened at the same time.

"Damn," Fang muttered, his hands flying swiftly through the air, searching for me. I could feel the wind from his hands, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing the bridge of my nose. Reflexively, I stepped forward, trying to get in his line of touch, but instead I heard Iggy holler.

"What the hell, Fang?" he screamed, his voice sounding muffled, like he had something pressed against his mouth, cutting the loud noise of his talking short. "Why'd you hit me?"

"Idiot," Fang drawled. "I'm not even near you, pansy. I'm over here by the freakin' door."

Iggy grumbled, "Then who the heck hit me?"

Kate chuckled. "God was probably smacking some sense into your dumb ass."

Iggy, even though I couldn't see, was more than likely reaching for the sky in some incredulously ridiculous way that, oddly enough, expressed how angry he was at her comment. "God doesn't like when people make jokes about Him," he said, in a controlled, even, chilling tone.

She simply chuckled. "Who said I was joking?"

Johnny snickered, his voice carrying in the deep darkness of the room. "There's a fine line between love and hate, my young grasshopper," he said, his voice underlined with laughter at his own joke.

Fang, from somewhere off to my left now, probably still searching for me, added, "I've walked on that line before."

Time for the Gasman to pipe in and say his two cents. "I've fell off that line before, y'all."

It was quiet after that, nobody laughing or talking or even whispering; the only thing that could be heard was everyone's foot scuffing on the floor as they slid through the room carefully, hoping not to run into anything that might be placed in the way. I knew Fang was off to my left, and I knew Ky was behind me, so I stayed close to him, hoping that I wouldn't run into anything.

Ky must've taken the hint, and so he grabbed a hold of the hem of my hoodie, pulling me slightly closer as to not get separated. "I don't know about you," he began softly, chuckling, "but I don't feel like bustin' my knee in on any of the tables in here."

I smirked to myself, my hands flying out to carefully swipe in the air. "I couldn't agree more."

I knew Ky was opening his mouth to speak again – common sense really came in handy at times likes this – but he was cut off when someone yelped up ahead, then called back, "Whoa, be careful. Something... weird's hanging from the ceiling. Might take your head off or something." Ratchet, his voice sounding strange, as if he were swimming in a pool of disbelief.

Then I heard a slight squeak or groan, something creaking on unsteady legs. As if Ratchet had bumped into a low-hanging chandelier or something to that effect, sending it swaying quickly back and forth. A low grunt from Dylan somewhere off to the right was followed by a wine of metal dragging heavily across the floor.

"Tables," Dylan announced. "Watch out for tables."

Star spoke up from behind Ky and me. "Does anyone remember where the light switches are?"

"That's where I'm headin'," Fang responded, from the front, and by the racket following his words I could tell he'd run into a table. "I swear I remember them being on that wall by the stage."

I continued walking blindly forward, my hand fisted in Ky's loose shirt. My eyes had adjusted somewhat; where before, everything had been a wall of blackness, now I could see bits of shadow molding with shadows. Yet something was off, big time. I was still a little more disoriented than I should've been. Maybe it was the liquor –

"Blah-huh-huh!" the cry came from off to my left; Johnny, it sounded like, as if he'd just stepped in a big pile of rat poop. His scream following confirmed my suspensions. "Watch your step up here! That rat Max stomped must've had diarrhea."

Another groaning sound splintered the air; before I could ask what happened, I bumped into something myself. Hard. Awkwardly shaped, as if it were reaching for the sky with fake, wooden arms. What the hell?

"Found it!" Fang shouted excitedly.

A few clicks were hard, then the room blazed with fluorescent lights, temporarily rendering me as sightless as before. I stumbled away from Ky, rubbing my eyes, and ran into another stiff object, toppling it over.

"Damn," Holden breathed, followed by Nudge's loud, "Whoa!"

I lifted my eyes and looked around, taking in everything around us. There were white plastic tables placed strategically throughout the large, white-walled room, making a loose formation. On every table was several napkins and China dishes, all swirling with a deep electric blue and intense lime green, looking badass. But that wasn't what confused me. Standing at intervals through the room was large, manikins, wearing the latest fashion, from bikinis with Ug boots to tight, black dresses, with hats adorning their bald, multicolored heads, shielding their faces from my view.

Freaky.

Ky let go of my hoodie with a sheepish smile and waltzed over to Angel, taking her by the hand. I was perplexed; were they seeing each other, or had he grabbed her hand in his just for comfort? They looked... nice together, I guess. Angel's light blonde hair and deep royal blue eyes went well with Ky's dark tawny locks and turquoise eyes.

Angel was the first to speak up, rubbing Ky's hand. "So, what's all this?" she asked everyone.

After a moment, Iggy replied, "Uh, ain't there going to be that fashion show Monday or something? Maybe this was just to give the models more confidence."

"I am _so _coming back down here to watch this thing," Holden said to nobody.

Kate came up behind him and rapped him on the head, screaming, "I do not think so!" Goodness, I wish they'd make up their mind all ready. They were either in love, or in hate. I didn't understand their relationship one bit. Johnny had been right: there is a fine line between love and hate, and those two were walking right down the middle of it.

I looked around for Fang, excluding myself from everyone's conversations as they all began to talk at one time; my neck prickled somewhat, and I spun around, only to see the aforementioned boy right behind me, grinning as if he were about to play the meanest, greatest prank on me.

"So, you stepped on a rat?" he asked casually, pulling me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin. I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist, swaying sideways with him, as if we were dancing in the same spot, our feet never moving.

I hiccuped. "I think it was more of a mouse... It was small," I corrected him.

He chuckled. "There's my Max, always correcting even the smallest mistake," he said, his breath tickling the small waves dangling around my neck. The others – with their arguing and cursing and laughing – faded away, and it was only Fang and me, alone, together, in the room, full of manikins that looked too freaky for my taste. The only thought running through my mind at this moment other than how much Fang was coming to mean to me was that we didn't have time to be all lovey-dovey with each other. We needed to get the hell out of Poteau before we were caught.

"Fang," I whispered against his shoulder, warning, pulling back slightly, my eyes meeting his. "We need to get ourselves out of this little rut before we lose our minds with each other. You understand?"

He sighed, let me go, and nodded, though he kept my hand tucked firmly in his, massaging delicately delicious circles on my skin. "Yeah, I get it," he said, then followed it by a devil-may-care grin, sending my heart fluttering. "But after we get out, you owe me. Big time."

I nodded, trying my hand at flirting, batting my eyelashes seductively. "I always pay my debts." God, I sucked at being flirtatious.

He rolled his eyes. "Please, whatever you do, _don't _act like that. I can't stand girls who put themselves at there for guys who either don't like them or are gonna take advantage of them and throw them away," he said, pressing a small kiss on my forehead. "I like you just the way you are, craziness and all."

Despite myself, I knew I was blushing, and to keep him from seeing it, I turned around and pulled him after me, heading toward the group huddling in the middle of the room, standing as far away from the manikins as possible. I couldn't blame them, though. Those things were really starting to rub me the wrong way, especially with the way they were staring, as if they could see right into your soul. Scary, huh?

But by the way Fang chuckled, I knew he'd seen the blush, and he simply squeezed my hand tightly before pushing his way into the congested circle. Then the sweet Fang was gone, replaced by a drill sergeant. Talk about bipolar.

"Guys, we need to come up with a plan, now," he said quietly, but with enough force and conviction that everybody should've stopped talking and turned to pay attention. But nobody did, and it didn't seem to sit well with Fang.

"Hey, pay attention or kiss your freedom goodbye!" he yelled, hushing everyone with his forbidding tone. Standing by his side, with my hand wrapped in his, tucked in his jacket pocket, I couldn't help but notice that his voice was low and scary, underlined with a murderous hint. He really could be frightening when he wanted to be. Once he was rewarded with everyone's undivided attention, he continued. "There's two ways to get up into the projection room, but if we all go the same way at the same time, it'll take forever because of all the locks we'd have to pick and all the alarm codes we'd have to turn off before we even got in."

"Two ways," Johnny whispered, seemingly to himself, his voice distance and faraway, as if he were looking in on us from the outside world. "There's two ways, right? One's through the weight room in the gym, and the other's from that hidden door in the library behind the computers."

Ratchet grinned evilly, showing all his teeth, the whites of the enamel looking freaky in the dark light of the room. "He right?"

Fang nodded. "Looks like he remembers more than just those make out sessions in the girls' locker room," he said, nudging Johnny's shoulder, and I couldn't help but smile warmly. All this was so strange, but so cool and adrenaline-filled at the same. "But we can't all go together."

"So what you're saying is that we're gonna split up?" Ari asked, just as I opened my mouth to ask; he flashed me a smile, and I winked at him, though I felt anything but reassuring. We were running from a courthouse full of police, for goodness sake! They were bound to catch us sooner or later. I just hoped it'd be later – way later – rather than sooner.

Fang nodded, grimly. "Yep," he said, looking at us all as we huddled around him. "Iggy, Gasman, Kate, Holden, Angel, and Ky – y'all are with me. We're goin' for the computer room in the library since it's further away. The rest of you, head off with Johnny toward the weight room. I don't know if it's locked, but I think they still keep that spare key on top of the trophy case. Roland and Sam – you guys take your groups and go out and find us something to get away in that _isn't _a bus. Got it?"

"Yes," Roland and Sam said at the same time, and then they were gone, running to another door opposite the one we entered and exiting, heading to find another transportation vehicle for us.

I gulped, trying not to show how nervous I was as I watched the door close. "So, we're splitting up. Again."

Fang sighed and turned around to face me as the others began to converse, dividing up into their groups and talking quietly in hushed tones, waiting for the leader to give the order to go. But the leader was too busy staring into my eyes, his wide and glimmering, trying to read the emotions I was hiding deep inside.

"It won't take us long to meet back up, Max," he whispered, swiping at a flyaway curl cuddling up to my chin, tickling my cheek with his fingertips.

I nodded. "Yeah, I know," I said, almost choking on the uncertainty filling my tone. I'd just gotten Ari, Ella, and Nudge back – I didn't want to lose them again already, so soon. "It's just, I just got Ari, Nudge, and Ella back, and I don't want to gamble with them again. I don't want to lose them right after we rescued them."

"And we won't," he replied, cupping my cheeks in his hands, pressing his thumbs into the corners of my lips, massaging the soft skin till I had no choice but to break out in a small smile. "We won't let nothing happen to them. So just go with Johnny, and remember that when the sun rises up today, we're gonna be safe and sound back home."

I grinned hugely. "Whatever you say, buddy," I teasingly said, standing on my tiptoes to give him a sweet, lingering kiss on the lips, just barely pressing, and when he started to pull me toward him with the intent of deepening the contact, I pulled back. If I allowed him to ignite the passion between us, I'd never leave, and we'd get caught in each other, probably taken to jail where we'd stay till our hearing with the judge.

Then we'd be no good to anybody.

Fang, breathless and a little angry at having to cut the kiss off so soon, flashed me a smirk that stimulated all the rebelliousness and passion inside of me, and I felt myself smiling back ever so slightly. "I will see you later," he promised, before pressing a quick kiss to my forehead and spinning on his heel, taking off after his designated group of obstreperous, unruly kids from the sticks.

After watching him for what felt like hours, but in real life was only about ten seconds, I turned around and faced my own gang of disorderly kids, they're clothes and hair ragged, ripped, stained with all kinds of varied and fused substances.

We looked the part of rowdy band of thieves in ripped up jeans about to show the law how we ruled the world.

I smiled, the pure sadistic and evil of the grin washing over me, flooding my veins with the oddest, most weightless feeling in the world. _Defiance. _I liked it.

"Okay, guys. You know what Fang said," I called out, clapping my hands as I pointed for Johnny to lead the way. "Let's blow this joint before we're caught like a toad in a tornado."

**PAGE BREAK! **

"How in the hell do you expect to get passed this hunk-a-junk, John-Boy?" I asked, looking at the wide iron chains crisscrossing the width of the door, falling toward the ground heavily, with three deadbolts securing the chains perfectly in place right next to the brass knob.

We'd made good time with running away from the police by

Johnny blanched. "I think we should call up a locksmith or something, 'cause there's no way anybody's gettin' through there without a freaking bulldozer," he stated, his voice breathless, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Ari cocked his head to the side, scratching his cheek in thought. "What _is _it, anyway? And what are they trying to hide in there?"

A volley of unintelligent answers filled the air at his question, and I felt myself rolling my eyes, knowing we were wasting the limited time that we had.

"Gold."

"Dead bodies."

"Marijuana."

"O.J. Simpson or Mike Tyson."

"Roasted alpacas!"

Johnny slapped Ari upside the head, causing his dark hair to fly upward, the brown locks sticking straight up. "Really, man? Roasted alpacas? How did you come up with that one?"

"Read it in a book somewhere," was Ari's quiet, nearly inaudible reply.

Dylan huffed. "Surprised you can read at all."

Maya, seething in what looked like boiling anger, took it upon herself to smack Dylan upside the head for his stupidity. "Honestly, Dylan. I don't think this is the right time to be actin' like you know everything."

I nodded, telling her without words that I couldn't agree more. "Fang said something about a spare key on top of the trophy case, right?" I announced, hoping in some way that my words might convey the message that we had to get our act together, and we had to do it now.

Ella's dark eyes slowly widened, and she grinned, a somewhat primal grin that made me wonder if my little sister was as innocent as she had me to believe. "Totally," she said, glancing back over her shoulder to the large, hardwood case standing in the middle of the lobby, the sheer bigness of it casting a faint intimidation throughout the room.

If that thing fell on you, you'd be a goner, for sure.

"Check the case, then, someone," Johnny called out, pointing backward behind him in the general direction of the trophy case.

Ari and Nudge volunteered to go see while the rest of us waited.

It was quiet, silent, the only thing loud enough to hear our breathing, until I cut through the noiselessness and asked, "So, is there gonna be stairs?"

Johnny looked at me, dumbfounded, his eyes wide as saucers. "Max, darlin', you're sweet as sugar but act like a devil," he announced, and I frowned, not sure what was happening. "But I hate to tell you that yes, there will be stairs. Do not fall."

I snarled, mixing it in with a smirk. "I'll try not to let gravity pull me down, dickhead."

He cracked a grin. "I don't like the feelin' of bein' called a 'dickhead' when I myself know that I am not," he said to me, using a sophisticated British accent, the sound making my ears ring. We all laughed, relishing the feel of weightlessness, knowing that we might actually have a way out of this mess.

And then Johnny turned serious; he crossed his arms and leaned against the metal-chained door, eyeing me wearily, calculatingly, as if he were judging me for a competition.

"So, you and my baby brother are an item, huh?" he asked.

I flushed, caught off guard, and nodded, knowing that Dylan was behind me. "Yeah, I guess we are," I said, whispery-soft, barely audible. And then I got to thinking about how that statement was true yet false at the same time. "Well, kind of. Not really. Yeah, we are, I guess. Not officially, though."

Johnny grinned. "Cool down, Max. I'm just askin'," he said, reaching out to clamp me on the shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "I'm only askin' because Fang had a bad run-in with a girl back in high school. He's been a little cautious ever since."

Cautious, Fang? Nah, no way. "Mattie Masterson," I said, smiling at the look he gave me. "Yep, he told me. Said to screw her. Gotta give him props for all he had taken from her. Fang's not one to take much now, I can tell."

Johnny nodded. "Fang's... different. He's a real good guy, in his own way, but he has done some bad things. Way bad; if he got caught for them, he'd go to jail for a very long time. But he's smart – he's good at dodging bullets. But he can't say no to a pretty girl. I just wanna know if you're gonna hurt him or not."

I shook my head, repulsed at the suggestion. "No, I would never, so you don't have to worry – "

"Found it!" Nudge screamed, racing back toward us, holding up a shining object in the air that I assumed to be the key.

Mentally thanking her for interrupting the weird little talk from above, I held my hand out and took the key from her; she smiled hopefully, her fingertips scratching mine lightly, Ari coming up next to her. "Thanks, kid," I said, and laughed at the beaming look on her dirty, grimy face.

Johnny took the key from me with a swift, mocking, "Thanks, kid," and proceeded to pick the lock between fits of laughter. I forced down the urge to kick him in the butt – I actually liked him; he was pretty cool, funny at the right times and serious when the time calls for it, never once wavering in what he believed in and always thinking about others wellbeing before his own.

_That _was a man, in my opinion.

"Yes!" Johnny yelled in joy, and I watched as the chains fell off and the door swung open to reveal a waxed, shining gym floor, irradiated by the faint glow of light cutting through the large windows above the bleachers. It smelled of wax, thick and plastic-like, and I followed Johnny in, looking around, wondering how many seances have been conducted in the middle, where a large pirate man was wearing an eye patch and holding a large, crescent-moon shaped knife.

"Old gym," Maya said to me, coming up to my left. "We have four, but this one is the oldest. It's a lot nicer than it used to be when we were in school."

"Really?" I said, because it seemed the right thing to say.

She nodded, laughing lightly, the noise reflecting around us. "Believe it or not, yes. There used to be this old story about a little girl getting locked in here and falling off the scoreboard and breaking her neck. It goes to say that her body was dragged away by evil spirits who pulled her soul out and cursed it for eternity, damning her to haunt this place till God shows His face again. And, to be honest, there are a few clues actually supporting that story."

Shivers were racking my spine as I took it all in, my fright of the darkness renewing itself to a new level, making me see things that I otherwise wouldn't' have if I wasn't scared. The shadows dancing across the waxed floor, looking like large fingers reaching for us; skittering sounds coming from the deep, dark crevices; the creaking of the floorboards as we walked over them.

It was all almost too much, and I was near screaming.

"Not that I believe it, of course," Maya went on conversationally. "It's just some stupid story. Nobody believes it."

I laughed, choked. "Yeah."

"Here's the door, guys!" Dylan called, and I strained my neck to see him jiggling the knob. "And it's unlocked! Let's go!"

He swung the door open, and we poured in, our arms outstretched to graze the walls so we wouldn't trip or fall. Luckily, these stairs were easier to walk on than the last, and it didn't take as long to reach the top; we were there in barely thirty seconds, waiting impatiently for Johnny to open the door. Then we were all entering the projection room.

Dylan, the second one in, flicked on the light, and I looked around. There was two large brown tables hugging the far left wall, with numerous unknown things on them; to the right was a tattered couch that had unmatched pillows displayed on it. The carpet was normal: dark brown with splotchy, questionable stains on them.

It was awfully... normal.

"Last one, shut it and lock it," Johnny ordered, and Ari did as he was told.

I leaned against the wall next to the door, shutting my eyes as everybody began to whisper-yell at once, arguing about what to do next. I just ignored them and rested against the wall, trying to not think about Fang getting caught. Johnny had said Fang would spend a lot of time in jail if he ever got caught, so he couldn't. He just _couldn't. _

I allowed everything that had happened tonight already to come washing over me, and understood something that was as obvious as the sky is blue – I was insane for going along with this whole thing. Honestly. This was ridiculous. I'd already almost died more times than I could count, and I had no idea what to say to my parents when they got back from Oklahoma City late tomorrow night.

Maybe I shouldn't tell them. After all, they had no right to know.

"Max," Dylan called to me. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me and raised my eyebrows, letting him know he had my attention. "We're gonna wait for Fang and the others, and then hop out the window and book it to Sam and Roland. They're waiting by the stoplight right outside."

I nodded. "Okay."

He smiled then, just barely, but I caught it. "And Max? Fang's going to be just fine.

I smiled, realizing that he was right, Fang would be just fine, okay, safe, alright. "I know."

There was a banging, rustling sound behind the door, as if the person on the other side were having a great amount of difficulty to open it; Johnny and I looked at each other, understanding flashing between us. Silently, like Fang, he tiptoed over to the large sofa next to the door and hid behind it, crouching, preparing for the right moment to spring. I saw a large vase on the desk, filled with flowers of different hues of purple, pink, and red. Making a split-second decision, I grabbed the vase, dumped the flowers out, and plastered myself against the wall, right next to the door.

_The cops,_ I thought, clutching the vase tighter in my hands, holding it out away from my body in anticipation, waiting. The knob turned; the door opened, followed by a vicious string of cursing. In the dimness, all I could see was the outline of somebody as they stepped through the door. I lunged forward, calling upon all my strength, and slung the vase with all my might –

"Dylan," I hissed. "Kill the lights." Then we were blanketed in darkness once again.

The shadowy figure moved, quick as if a whip had just been popped, but not quite fast enough; the vase slammed into the figure's outstretched arm before flying out of my hand, colliding with the wall. Broken pottery flew down like rain, accompanied with a howl.

The yell was definitely masculine, deep and husky, just the right amount of southern slang. So was the cusses that were yelled. "Dammit! It's _me, _asshole!"

_Fang?_

"Lights!" Johnny yelled, popping up from behind the couch. Dylan flickered the lights on, and – sure enough – Fang was standing in front of me, clutching his arm as if he'd been sliced open, his group flooding into the room behind him, all looking either slightly hysterical or on the verge of insanity.

The feeling was mutual.

"Son of a bit – a" Fang cut himself off, looked up, his eyes finding me standing before him, grinning sheepishly. "Holy. Were you the one that hit me?"

I nodded, looking down.

"Damn," was the only thing he said before the door was kicked shut and I was in his arms, being backed up against the wall as he tripped under his loud chuckles. I was grinning hugely on the inside, trying to hold it in; but when you had someone like Fang falling all over you like he was drunk, it was kinda hard to keep your self-control. Which is why I burst out laughing, my hands clutching his shoulders.

"Lock that door, Ig," someone – the Gasman – ordered, but I was too busy laughing.

"I'm bleedin', you know," Fang whispered once everybody commenced into a loud, thunderous conversation. "A lot. Massive blood loss. It could be fatal."

"Shut up," I said, at loss for a witty comeback, and slapped at him, pushing away as to not get lost in him. Again. A flash of hurt and something else danced into his dark brown eyes; it was quickly gone, however, when he flaunted a grin and spun, readying himself to address the group around us.

But, before he could, the door behind him burst open, and knocked him to the ground, landing on top. A millisecond later, an army of cops barreled in, all wielding guns and sticks, held up in the air brazenly. Oh holiness.

We didn't have time to react, to even think about fighting them off and getting away, because they were already shouting stuff like, "Get down on the ground and put your hands up in the air!"

Slowly, everyone did as they said, throwing their hands securely over their heads and bending down unhurriedly, vigilantly, their eyes roaming the room and taking everything in: possible escape routes, the number of police, everyone's conditions, and all that good stuff.

Fang, to my glee, pushed the door off himself and crawled out, silently cursing, glaring daggers at the police as he rubbed his wrist and pushed up to his knees, snarling at one of the cops as he smirked at Fang's distress. Never in my life have I had a door fall on me and twenty or so police stomp in over it, but I knew it hurt. It _had _to have hurt by the way he was clutching his limp wrist; it seemed broken, but I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was just sprained. I only hoped it was just sprained.

And then, of course, the cops had to run at us and restrain us, each grabbing one of us and yanking us up by our armpits, jerking so hard I sucked in a breath at the pain. The police grabbed each of our arms individually and pulled them down, taking their time to cuff us older kids with the rustiest, sharpest handcuffs I'd ever touched. The younger kids – like Ari, Nudge, Angel, and Ella – were left cuff free, with only an officer holding them.

Then they begun to sing their lovely chant. Sarcasm is the key to that sentence, in case you're slow and hadn't noticed.

"You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to a lawyer. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

They said it wrong. It should be: anything you say can and will be misquoted, and then used against you. Jerk offs.

No one spoke; the police took that as an okay and began to shove us forward hard, pushing so forcefully that I stumbled into Fang, who was in front of me, snarling as if his glare could make all the cops drop dead.

"Wait a minute!" Fang called out, loudly, silencing everyone who was about to protest, causing everyone to jerk their head toward him in anticipation. Even the surrounding police officers gave Fang their dedicated attention. "How the hell did this happen? We're smarter than this!"

Nudge sighed, scooting closer to Ari since her officer was distracted, who was back to back with Dylan, watching everyone with wide, wild eyes. "Apparently not..." she said, trailing off.

I bit my lip, hoping not to grin, knowing that Fang would spazz out on me if I did, and tried to come up with a plan to get us out. All of us, not just half, or one, or five – all of us had to get out of this hellish mess. I was not giving up my brother and sister after I'd just gotten them back. There was no way.

I looked around; there were about twenty cops in all, every one men, and they were surrounding us in a loosely formed circle, one hand on their weapons while the other was held out straight, as if they were trying to fend off an invisible attacker. There was no way to get through them, and even if we caused a distraction, not all of us would get out. And that wasn't acceptable.

On a whim, I threw my gaze upward, my eyes glueing onto the single bright light bulb that brought a large sheen of luminosity to the room. The light... And then it hit me, the gears in my brain clicking together with a plan.

I didn't allow myself any time to think it over – instead, I backed up into my cop and grabbed the officer's gun , jumping away as he tried to grasp me up in a strong grip. Fang, from across the room, had seen my abrupt action, and to relay my plan I turned around and showed him the gun, then pointed it at the light, hoping he'd understand.

He did.

"Yo, guard Max!" he screamed, and those words were like a war cry to everybody, because they all bounced into action and began attacking whoever was near them.

Dodging an approaching officer by sidestepping him and sticking my foot out, I searched for my brother, who I knew wasn't cuffed, and screamed, "Ari, your assistance is needed!"

He looked at me from where he was clobbering Nudge's officer, throwing one last punch before tossing the guy to the ground and swiftly making his way toward me. "What?"

I nodded backward at the gun in my hands, which were still restrained behind my back. "Get the gun and shoot out the light," I said, hoping he could hear. Chaos was erupting around us; everyone was fighting, screaming, giving it their all and protecting Ari and me, the former of who was looking at me incredulously.

"I don't know how to work a pistol," he announced stupidly, and it was then that I remembered I didn't, either.

"Take the freakin' safety off, dimwit!" someone yelled; my eyes flashed upward so fast I was almost overcome with whiplash, and I saw Johnny flash me a grin before socking an officer in the face, knocking him unconscious.

Sighing, I turned back toward Ari and watched as he flicked the red switch on the side and brought the gun up, aiming it at the light bulb, hoping he wouldn't miss. I silently counted to three, calming my breathing, noting him steady his hands. I felt someone run up behind me; a glance over my shoulder showed it to be Fang, smiling hugely at me, pushing a cop from his path toward me.

I grinned back and turned around, a newfound strength and confidence surging inside me.

Ari could do this. He was freaking Arnold Jedidiah Ride – he could do anything with a name like that!

Dear God, I sucked at pep talks.

Rolling my eyes, I shut them and heard Ari as he squeezed the trigger, taking a step back as the wind from the gun exploded around us and crashed into the light. There was a millisecond of silence, followed by sound that reminded me of breaking glass, and then everything went dark.

And when I say dark, I mean freaking pitch black.

Just the way I liked it.

**So, I hope you enjoyed it. Did I disappoint? Was it long enough?**

**Just a few questions, if you don't mind: **

**Who is your favorite character and why?**

**What is your favorite part?**

**How many times have they been arrested or almost arrested? I lost count.**

**How many car chases have they been in? Lost can't there, too.**

**Is this story predictable, or is it insanely spontaneous, like a rotten gay mango jacked up on steroids?**

**Lastly, is this story even good?**

**Hope at least some people answer those. It's cool if you don't though. **

**Also, am I the only one who thinks that the reason the guys you know never meet your expectations is because you've mentally dated a celebrity? My best friend Mckenna told me that, and it made me think... Oh, and just a little hint at the next chapter – I love eighteen-wheelers... Lol!**

**~ SoonerMagic **


	27. Chapter 27

**It took me forever to finally get started on this chapter. And yes, my excuse is that I have a life and it is getting rather busy. I haven't even updated my story Backdraft in forever, and now I feel like a failure. If you're a fan of Backdraft, I want you to know that I am stopping till September, like I did with this story. Sorry, and I want you to know that I hate having to do it. **

**Oh, and my crush has me hooked on that song 'Monster' by Skillet. It's oddly good, and I had to put it in this chapter. In a way, in fits perfectly to the steamy scene at the end. And when I say steamy, I mean like a sauna. I hope you like it, and that it makes up for the horrible updates. ;) And it's long, too. **

**Enjoy;)**

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Quick, here's a little trivia for all the smarty-pants out there. What do you do when you're surrounded by police officers, the lights are off, bathing everything in complete darkness, and you need to get away?

Would you chill the hell out and not move – maybe they won't find you – or do you break out the flashlight since the dark scares you? Would you attack the closest person to you, hoping it was a cop and not your ally, or run for your freaking life like a normal person?

All are fairly good options, but can you guess which one we did?

All of the above, actually. And, let me tell you, never do something in the dark while uncoordinated or unplanned, because it'll mess you up. Mentally and physically.

Ari had shot the lights out, so the whole room was covered in darkness, the eeriness seeming to eat at what was left of my nerves and tearing them away. It was a normal phobia to be afraid of the dark, but it wasn't like I could admit that right now, right here. Nobody knew I was afraid of the dark; not even my family or my closest friends. They couldn't know, because it made me feel weak, being scared all the time of an inanimate object such as the dark.

But I was tired of being scared now, tired of having to deal with the fear of some stupid thing that I should have grown out of years ago. It was like peeing your bed: you were supposed to grow out of it as a child. But what happened if you never grew out of it? What would happen if you were forever afraid of something?

There were many ways to get over being scared. You could sit down and think about what could have, should have, or would have happened. Or, you can leave all the uncertainties on the ground and move the hell on with your life. Because never letting go of something, like the fear of darkness, really held you back.

I was breathing heavily, trying to take in as much available oxygen as possible. I hated cramped spaces almost as much as darkness, and when they were combined together, it was nearly enough to make me go insane. But I couldn't show weakness at a time like this, when everyone needed me to be strong.

Especially Ella, because God knows she can't fight to save her life. Which, appropriately enough, was spot on.

"Max!" she called to me, somewhere in front of me, sounding off to the left kind of; her voice, shrill and high, held an ounce of pain, and I immediately was swept into action by the adrenaline running, crashing in me. "Some assistance would be greatly appreciated!"

I rolled my eyes, reaching my hands out in the blackness, stretching as far as I could, hoping to not brush or run into anybody while I was searching for her. It was scary, almost panicky, to walk in the dark without sight, trying to not stumble or do anything that could possibly harm others or yourself, but I am proud to say that I accomplished the task without so much as grazing a single fingertip over someone or something.

Before I was aware of what was happening, someone had grabbed me by the hair of my ponytail and jerked me toward them, eliciting a small moan of pain and shock from me. In a fit of anger and fear, I twisted around, causing the person to all but rip my hair out, and while forcing back a loud screech of agony, I swung my fist out blindly.

I was surprised when my fist connected with the jaw of someone, and even more astonished when a lusty, all-too familiar voice hollered out, "Oh my gosh, what in the hell is your deal, Max! I was trying to help you, not hurt you! Dear Lord, you'd think I was trying to assault you or something!"

I whimpered slightly at Johnny's voice. "Sorry," I mumbled, sighing when he released my hair. I made a mental note to make my punching him up to him later, but not now. I didn't have time now, and I couldn't' let my sudden courage to face the dark slip away like forgotten lyrics to a song.

"Ella?" I called out, slowly and quietly, hoping to not draw any attention to myself. I didn't need to be attacked again by someone that wasn't on my side this time.

Before I continue, just let me say that I hated having people scare me in the dark, when I couldn't see them approaching and didn't get a chance to prepare myself for the inevitably forthcoming fright that was knowingly going to be bestowed upon me. Maybe that was why I detested the dark so much that, if it were a person, I wouldn't pee on them if they happened to be on fire. And I especially didn't like it when someone jumped on my back and knocked me to the ground, because I didn't know if they were an ally or an enemy. And right now, right at this moment, I couldn't afford to be uncertain.

But, of course, my little sister, bless her heart, was in the dark about my fear, and so she hopped right on my back and tackled me to the ground.

My jaw bashed into something hard; I believed it was a plastic table by the way it felt against my skin, hard and cold and a little bit fake. But the pain, the agony, that accompanied it was entirely too real for me. I screamed – well, I think it was me. My mouth was numb from the impact and opened, and I wasn't exactly sure if the loud noise was coming from Ella or myself.

Upon landing on the ground, somewhat underneath the table, I reached my finger up in desensitized trauma and fingered the gash on my jaw, wincing at the feel of blood slipping fluidly through my fingers, like a lazily raging waterfall alone in the woods.

I was going to kill Ella.

With pain spitting little flaring sparks around my words, I ground out in a rough, ragged whisper, "Ella, please, for the sake of your life, get off me. Before I completely go even more insane than I already am."

There was a deep, dark chuckling in my ear, and it instantly piqued at my senses; that wasn't Ella's laughter, because she was very soft-spoken and quiet, like a little mouse compared to me.

"Uh, Max? I'm over here, not on top of you," Ella's voice – I knew it to be her by the way her words trembled because she was no doubt suckling her lip in trepidation – wafted through the air off to my left toward me, infiltrating my senses with a stinging, biting awareness, almost as if irony were mocking me.

"Oh, God," I mumbled, before the person was pushing off of me and wrapping their arms around my waist, jerking me up against their chest. I bit back a scream, angry more at myself than the person restraining me. I mean, could I have been any more dumber? I should've checked if it was, in fact, Ella or not.

In a fit of pure bravery, I arched myself against the person, knocking the crown of my head into his chin, and when he howled in pain, I was able to twist free from his weakening grasp. A flash of red-hot, white-flaring freedom rushed into my body, making me smile wickedly, as if I'd just climbed Mount Everest to the very top without an air tank or anything.

And we all know that that is impossible. Well, I think it is. Wait, I'm pretty sure it is.

Just to make sure I was entirely free, I jerked my elbow backward and jammed it into the guy's throat, taking a heavy, long step forward when I felt him go down. I couldn't help myself – I felt a large, sadistic, more than wickedly insane smirk dance across my lips, flirting with my mouth at the corners. My feet, spread wide apart, were taking me further and further away from my sudden assailant.

But then, of course, a hand had to shoot out from the darkness and slip around my boot, covering my ankle in a deathly, steely grip. This time, when I felt a scream bubbling down deep inside my body, I let it out. The person jerked toward himself, and I went down hard, banging my knee against something thick, hard, and rocky-feeling – a belt? I heard a loud grunt of pain, masculine and deep, though flavored with an agony running so deep in his veins that I felt it in my heart.

Dang, having someone knee you in the crotch had to have hurt. Really bad, especially for a guy. I felt a ghostly sensation of his pain spark in my stomach, and I winced, because I knew it was hurting. I hope he didn't want to have kids, because he was S.O.L. now.

The iron buckle of the belt, of which I could tell was a bull rider being jostled by how hard I'd hit, bit into my skin through my ragged jeans. The buckle sliced my knee, and I could feel blood starting to sputter, and then little trickles were snaking down my leg and filling my boot with blood.

Before I could compose myself or find out who I'd hit, I was being mercilessly dragged under something by the person who had the grasp on my foot. I had a sudden recollection of a movie I'd once seen a while ago, when a girl had been in a foreign country and was attacked by these people. She'd dove underneath the bed and called her dad, who had told her to let the people take her, and then she was being dragged out from under the bed.

That horrifying thought only made me panic and struggle more as I was continuing to be dragged under. I raked my nails on the floor, trying to scrape for leverage, hoping to somehow find some traction to claw myself away. My hands were hurting, the nubs on my fingers stinging from being scraped across the floor, slicing them like delicious slivers of ripened carrots on a hot summer night.

Now that I was on the other side of the room, by the window, I could see the faint, very dim glow of light flooding in through from a nearby streetlamp. I used that negligible light to study my searing nails as I was continuing to be yanked under the table, slowly, as if my captor wanted me to experience all the blind terror and nervous panic overtaking any calm I had left of the night.

By the time I got enough adhesion, I was entirely under the desk, thrashing with my legs and arms, trying to get free. I pulled my leg back in sheer alarm, jabbing them into my captor's face with enough force that I _felt _and _heard _his nose break under my foot, blood spurting out and coating my entire limb in the goofy substance.

A muffled groan followed by a hoarse, pain-filled holler vibrated from the guy's mouth as I army-crawled my way toward, till I was successfully out from underneath the tiny terror of the table, panic and dismay still running meteorically through my body as I gasped, trying to regain the breath I'd had taken away from the man while lying on the ground still.

Taking deep breaths, I pushed myself up, knowing I'd either get stepped on or caught if I were to stay down. Once I was on my feet, I had to throw my arms out to steady myself since I was a little wobbly; my boot was halfway filled with blood, of which I didn't know whose. Mine, the guys, or someone else's. Take your pick.

I felt lightheaded, as if I'd just been spun around several times on the merry-go-round and now had the task of walking in a straight line handed to me without looking like a drunk. Though I had been slightly buzzed, I'd say that I had sobered up quickly.

Somebody grabbed my upper arm, yanking me resisting body into their side; I felt their breath, low and hissing, tickle my ear, and fought the urge to fall to my knees from the prickling sensations. Instead, I called upon adrenaline and tried to jerk free, raising my free hand up in a fist, preparing to punch the snot out of the person.

But they were quicker than me and they grabbed my hand, spreading apart my fingers and intertwining our hands. It was then that I realized who it was, and a relief so powerful – like waves crashing on the beach, breakers out at sea, the high and low tides mixing together strongly, taking away all my anger and worry and caution – washed through me that I had to catch myself before I fell to the ground at Fang's feet.

"Max," he breathed heavily in my ear, his hand on my arm snaking upward to twine around the loose curls falling about my nape. I shivered at his hot, searing fingers on my neck. "The window over there – enough light's flooding through it that we can probably hop out without gettin' caught. We just need someone to distract them."

I nodded, then remembered that it was dark and he couldn't see unless he had X-Ray vision, which would just be totally cool though it was strongly unlikely. "Yeah, good idea," I whispered, hearing someone approaching from my left. In order to avoid anymore unwanted confrontations with people, whether they were my friends or not, I stepped backward, pulling Fang with me. He went willingly, seemingly understanding as the person got closer and started to pass.

Fang, on a whim, stuck his foot out and tripped the person – the only way I could tell was because of the faint light flooding in through the window right behind us, and the fact that there was a loud crashing sound in front of us, followed by Fang's unmistakeable laughter. How any one could find something humorous in a situation like this, I did not know, but I had to admire it, because it was respectable.

As if reading my mind, Fang whispered into my ear, breathing heavily from his light chuckling, "If you can't live it down, might as well live it up. You live and you learn, and the world's gonna turn. There ain't nothing you can do. Am I right or am I right?"

Playfully, trying not to make too much noise, I slapped him on the shoulder, though I did agree for multiple reasons. The fact that people were unsatisfied with themselves was revolting, because you were made like that for a reason, and you're beautiful. Not because of looks, or because of your personality or any of that cheesy stuff, but because you're still alive, you're still fighting. After everything that has happened to some people, it's a wonder they still have the courage to stand up again in the morning and say "I am going to take his day head on, because that's all I can do". That's strength, and the strength in you makes you strong.

Well, that's what I believe, any way. I believed that the strength in which you had inside yourself made you beautiful, though your appearance and personality did count, in a way.

"Okay. Here's what we're gonna do," Fang whispered as he pulled us backward, to where our spines were pressed firmly against the wall. I felt the support beams in the walls eat at my back with little pricks, and I squirmed, though I didn't dare move. "Sam texted and said him and the others have a truck waiting for us at the end of the road. All we need is someone to distract those cops and then the others will be good to go."

I swallowed, listening to him intently while simultaneously keeping an ear out for anyone trying to approach Fang and me without our knowing. "And who's that gonna be?" I asked quietly, hoping my voice didn't carry, though it would probably be hard to hear anything from all the racket bounding off the walls in the projection room.

Fang suddenly thumped my head, and I was caught off guard, staggering to the left slightly before his arm shot around my waist and he pulled me flush against him. "Who do you think, silly? I got all of you into this mess, and I'll be damned if anyone but me is the one to get you out."

Though worriment and fear for him was coming alive inside me, I couldn't hold back a smile as I thumped him on the head in return. I'd learned from experience that pretending nothing was wrong was one of the best ways to deal with a situation in your life that wasn't going your way. "Someone's a little prideful. That's one of the seven sins."

I felt Fang shrug against my side. "Yeah, well. Sinning is a selfish thing that one usually commits in order to better oneself. But being prideful is different, to me. I get people out of whatever I get them in to, because I ain't the kind of person to just leave somebody hangin'. Only people who ain't worthy of forgiveness does that kind of thing."

The way he spoke – so religiously and righteous and spiritual – sent oddly welcoming trembles down my spine. "You really believe that, don't you?"

Again, he shrugged, though I could feel the way his shoulders swelled when I mentioned how powerfully he believed in something. "I never gave it much thought, but yeah, I guess I do," he said, slowly, calculatingly, watching as a person quickly passed in front of us. "It's just the way I was raised. But don't ask me how I know."

I felt the grin on his face in his voice before he pressed his lips against my temple and pushed me out the window.

The roof was white and tilted, smooth to the touch and angled downward, like a plastic yellow slide on a kids playground. Thanks to the evenness of the roof, I couldn't find any traction, and so I was gliding fluidly downward, faster than I'd ever went in my life, the wind tearing a holler from my lungs before enveloping it into the humid air pressing in on me.

Before I knew what was happening, I was carefully dropped from the roof and onto the heavy, thick grass of the schoolyard, hitting knees first and toppling end over end before I came to a gently rough stop with my back jammed up against the pole sifting light into the projection room.

I gasped like a fish out of water, trying to bring in as much oxygen available. It wasn't that I was out of breath, but the fact of being thrown out a window and slithering down a roof was enough to catch your air and not give it back till you were calmed down.

My back was flush with the wooden pole, evil splinters disregarding my fairly thick hoodie and biting into the tender flesh of my mid back. I was facing away from the school, toward the road; down it, I could see the bright taillights of a rather large vehicle. Could that be Sam and them?

Going on my instincts, listening to my gut, I sucked up all the pain I was feeling in my body and tried to stand up, but before I could someone – screaming loudly at the top of their lungs – came barreling down the roof much like I had and rammed into me, knocking me against the pole even harder.

This time, for sure, my breath was taken away and I wheezed, trying to bring it back while concurrently attempting to ignore the blaring pain that demanded attention with its incessant pulsating through my limbs.

Calming my serrated breaths, I looked over my shoulder as far as I could and saw a mass of curly dark brown hair – much like Ella's – being blown in the steady wind, concealing the face of a crying girl. She was wearing raggedy clothes, much like we all were, and I had a hunch who it was, though I wasn't exactly sure.

"Ella?" I called.

She croaked out, "Yeah. Max, that you?"

I rolled my eyes and cursed colorfully under my breath. "Damn you, Fang..."

* * *

><p>After Ella and I had had a few words shared – I ended up screaming at her till she was bawling even harder and praying to God to make me stop – we had waited for everyone else other than Fang to slide down the roof and then, once we were all together, I pointed out to the track awaiting us at the end of the road. We'd taken off quickly, with Ratchet, Johnny, and myself in the front, leading the others while trying not to worry about Fang.<p>

Fang was brave. He really was. I believed him when he'd said that he got people out of whatever he got them into. A large part of me knew he was going to come out unscathed, but that didn't mean I couldn't be concerned about his well-being. I was a girl – it was in a girl's nature to worry about the guy they were infatuated with.

It was simple science. Or maybe simple agriculture, considering I learned that in FFA. Makes one wonder...

I had to say, running for your freedom was something that one should not ever take lightly. Freedom was something that us, as Americans, took for granted, and we need to often remember that some countries aren't as fortunate as us when it comes to living life the way they desired. But there is one thing that I have to say about Americans, and – though we are one of the most annoying, aggravating, obnoxious (upon other adjectives that I cannot think of to describe my homeland) countries in the world – we stood up at the chance when something or someone threatened the subject of our freedom.

Which was, at this moment, the hardest truth I had ever felt in my life. My lungs were burning and my stomach was churning and I was about to collapse on the ground from exhaustion, sure, but I was still bound and determined to get free from the clutches of the law. And, to be honest, I didn't think it was the prospect of having my freedom taken away, but the fact that my mother would probably kill me, then bring me back to life only to kill me again.

Yep, for those of you who are scared of snakes and monsters and all that good stuff, I was scared of my _mother. _And I had a right to be, because when that woman gets mad, it's like World War III. Insane stuff, huh?

But sometimes, like at this moment right now, I believed that it was okay to give up. When you get screwed over so many times, and when the odds are against you and you can't push back everything that was bringing you down, I believed it was okay to just give up. Nobody asked me to do this, nobody demanded that I do this, nobody put a gun to my head and screamed at me to do this or else have my brains blown out.

So what was the point in continuing with it when, if I stopped, the only person I'd be hurting was myself?

With that fleeting thought, I stopped in my tracks, falling from my place at the front to the back, alongside Kate and Ky, who were yelling, cussing at me to come on, to catch up. But I just stood there and pretended that I didn't here them, looking dazedly over my shoulder and taking in the small army of cops approaching fast, about a hundred yards away. Why run, when you know you were going to get caught sooner rather than later?

But then someone was behind me, grabbing me around the waist and lifting me in the air, throwing my paralyzed body over their shoulder and taking off in the direction of the others, following closely in their footsteps. The full force of what I had just done came crashing down on me, like a tsunami on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, and I began to scream vociferously and pound on the guy's back, kicking and yelling and cussing at him to let me down, let me go.

My thought process was messed up; I couldn't think clearly, due to the fatigue and exhaustion, and so I hadn't been reasoning logically in my mind and I had made a huge, big, probably irreversible mistake. The only thing I could pick out in the random jumble of incoherent thoughts was that I had somehow let my brother and sister down. I had let my parents down. And my friends, old and new. And Fang. I had let him down, too. By giving up, I had not only let myself down, but those around me, too. What kind of example was I setting by giving up and getting caught?

Fear of being caught, of letting people down, infiltrated my senses without reservation, and took over everything, making me fight ever harder and longer. I needed to get loose, because I couldn't give up. Giving up was something that I didn't do, ever, and the only reason I even considered it was because of how tired, how intensely burnt out and loaded down with pain I was.

Well, I liked to think that was the reason.

I felt hot, humid breath being blown in my ear, and I caught of whiff of the smell, scrunching my nose up when I discovered it was the intoxicating amalgamation of moonshine and peppermints. A spark of familiarity flared in the back of my muddled mind, and I breathed out one single word – or, more appropriately, a name.

"Fang."

I heard him chuckle in my ear, breathing heavily from his exertions in running paired with the full weight of me on his shoulder. "I was hopin' you didn't guess who it was, that you just kept on fightin', because it was kind of funny," he replied, placing a quick kiss on my neck before thrusting me upward, into a more comfortable position on his shoulder. Did he not think I could walk?

I laughed, despite myself, my mind clearing up instantly now that I knew I was in safe hands by being in the arms of Fang.

"You can let me down, you know. I can walk," I said to him, positioning my elbows on his back so I could stare more at the police. They were falling behind – either that, or Fang was gaining ground fast, even with my weight oppressing on his shoulders.

I felt him shrug – or try to. The movement was jerky and awkward, and his shoulder blade dug acutely into my ribs, which made me muffle a moan of pain. "I know you can," he said, his breath hissing in between his teeth, like the tight air exuding from a sliced rubber tire. "I just don't want to risk that you may stop again. I can't bare it if you stop, because I will too. Got it, Stiff?"

Stiff? What was that supposed to mean? "Okay, hillbilly, I get not wanting to risk me stopping again, but what's with the name 'Stiff'? I mean, for real?"

I felt him laugh, and then I heard his words in my head from earlier: _If you can't live it down, might as well live it up. You live and you learn, and the world's gonna turn. There ain't nothing you can do. _

"You're stiff, and your elbows are real bony," he explained, taking an extra long step to catch up with Ky and Kate, jostling me against him and making my knees collide with his groin, which caused him to groan in mutated pain, though he didn't drop me. "Anyone ever tell you that, or were they way too puny to carry you?"

He quickly passed Kate and Ky, and then I was grinning at them, winking when they gave me a startled look. Kate's black hair was whipping around in the wind, slapping her face like the swords of a samurai, and Ky's hair was flapping up, like spikes. They both looked so weird, so exhausted and worn out and tired of everything, but it was funny. It really was. And I knew that if I didn't laugh, I'd cry. It was the only explanation to it all.

"So," I started off conversationally, as if we weren't being chased by cops and he wasn't carrying me and I hadn't' just all but given up. "What exactly did you do to distract them? Run around in your undies or set something on fire?"

Under his breath, Fang chuckled lightly, and it sent a small shiver down up my spine, making me nervously squirm on his shoulders as he carried me further and further away from the cops, who were beginning to lag behind pathetically. "Nah, nothing that drastic. I just ran through the gym and let loose all the balls from the shelves on the way out."

I could tell he was smiling hugely, proudly; I wished I could see it, though. I bet it was beautiful.

"Good idea," I whispered, grinning at Ratchet and Johnny, whom had been in the front with me, as we passed them, laughing under my breath at the looks they flashed me once they saw what was happening. Then Johnny yelled something I couldn't quite make out and everyone behind them poured on the speed for the last few hundred feet. "I never would've thought about it."

Again, he laughed carefully, as if he were measuring out his breaths and then, once he found a good rhythm, he'd allow himself to chuckle. "The truck's about fifty more feet, Max," he said to me in a breathless tone, and I nodded, craning my neck in a fruitless attempt of catching a glimpse of our getaway vehicle at the end of the road. "When I get there, I'm gonna toss you in the trailer and then hop in myself after we close the doors. That okay with you?"

Trailer? What did he mean by that? "Yeah, that's fine," I said, confused. "Quick question, though. What do you mean by 'trailer'? Is it a horse trailer or something?"

At this, I knew Fang was trying to keep in his obnoxious, know-it-all laughter as he said, "Nah, Max, darlin'. It's an eighteen-wheeler. You know, those big huge trucks that carry cargo all over the U.S.?"

Agitated, I screamed, "I know what an eighteen-wheeler is!" just as Fang threw me in the air without any warning whatsoever. My butt connected first with a hard metal floor tiled on top of several rows of two-by-fours, making me wince. I flipped backward, knocking my head slightly against a wooden wall with an aluminum covering, which sent me flying into a dizzy spell that I found very hard to get out of.

"Ahh," I moaned slowly, sitting up and rubbing all the knots on my head I'd acquainted from this night, just barely dodging a horde of people as they all jumped in the, throwing all caution to the wind and simply hauling themselves in.

Ari landed on my leg while Iggy and Star hit my side and stomach, making me howl with the pain exploding inside my body, overtaking my veins and nerves and muscles, till my hand was covered by the Gasman. I looked up at him in question, tears stinging my eyes and making my vision blurry.

He winked at me and rubbed my hair, brushing it with his fingers while he wiped a few stray tears away. "Shh, darlin'. I know it hurts, but the night's almost over. I promise. Can you handle it till then, or do you need Fang?" His voice didn't hold any malice, but instead it was gentle, soothing, making me calm down as he helped me up.

J.J. was a lucky woman to have a guy like the Gasman.

Ari got off me and jerked Iggy off roughly while Gazzy aided Star, and then I sat up against the wall, smiling as Fang and Ratchet hopped in the truck and then shut the doors with a loud, resounding clang that vibrated the rather still air in the trailer of the truck.

Fang instantly came to sit next to me as I heard Sam start the truck and then put it in gear, taking off at a rather quick pace that sent the people standing up staggering every which way, bumping into everyone and everything. Fang's arms looped around my shoulders as we struggled to our feet, aiding up Ari and the Gasman up.

"Are you havin' fun?" Fang whispered in my ear just as Sam jerked the wheel and took a hard left, throwing me to the opposite side of the trailer, catching myself on the wall so I wouldn't fall. Fang landed next to me, though he was on his hands and knees, gasping; his nose had hit the wall, though there was no blood.

"To answer your question, yes, I am," I said, helping him up and standing on tiptoes to kiss him on the nose. "It's been the wildest night of my life."

I smiled at him, toothily, and he leaned down to press his lips against mine in a fleeting kiss meant to show his happiness for surviving the night. But, of course, Sam had to take another turn, this time sending us all flailing backward, sliding on our backs across the trailer to hit the wall we'd been standing at before.

Through a haze of fog blinding my vision, I saw Fang smile, and couldn't help but not match it with my own. "Like I say, this night ain't over yet."

I grabbed his hand, tightly, squeezing as if he were my lifeline, and said, very seriously, though with an atrocious grin, "Yeah, and I don't want this night to end."

* * *

><p><em>It's just beneath the skin<em>

_I must confess _

_That I feel like a monster _

_I hate what I've become_

_The night has just begun _

_I must confess_

_That I feel like a monster_

Skillet's addicting song, _Monster, _was the background noise to mine and Fang's lips crashing together as I lay down in the seat of his dad's old flatbed 1970-model Ford, the pleather a chilly, welcoming sensation on my bare, exposed stomach. I had taken Holden's hoodie off when Fang had pushed me against the door of the truck, not because I wanted to make Fang want me, but because it was, in fact, pretty hot for an autumn night in October.

So no, I wasn't just trying to get in his pants. I was _hot. _As in, heated, warm, sizzling. Not the other, dirty hot. That was just – yuck. Don't even get me started on it.

Fang was lying on top of me, shrugging out of his leather jacket, grinning against my lips as we parted so I could aid him in removing his coat. The truck door was still ajar slightly, with our intertwined feet hanging out, and a rush of blizzard-like air danced across our bare skin; we shivered and pressed closer into each other, more for heat than anything.

A thin film of moonlight was glittering in through the busted windshield, alighting Fang's face in a soft, hazy glow that outlined all the angular curves of his nice face. He grinned down toothily at me, which I returned in kind, sticking my tongue out playfully as I reached up and wound my arms around his muscle-corded neck.

"It's kinda chilly out, huh?" he whispered in my ear, slinking his arms underneath my body and pushing me up, to where I was pressed against the other door, which was closed. The interior of the truck was a dark azure pleather, and the rests on the door were the same color, though it was a hard plastic filled with soft, squishy foam that felt good against the back of my head. He shut the door with the toe of his boot; boy, was he talented. "That feels much better."

He smiled once more, wickedly, devilishly, sending my heart soaring in preparation for what was about to take place in the cab of an old Ford before he crashed his lips down on mine again, catching me off guard with the brute force and gentleness. His tongue, hot and lashing, skimmed my lips, and the only thing I could do thanks to the shock in my bones was open to him, allowing him to take my mouth. He wasn't rough like a couple times before, but rather gentle, and sweet, and taking his time, loving my mouth instead of just taking advantage of me.

I couldn't hold back a moan of acute pleasure as he took my mouth and I fought the primal urge to wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer, closer – which was what him and I both wanted so badly. His tongue was making me delirious, absolutely insane with a hot, wicked wanting, and I swathed his tongue with mine, eliciting a very erotic moan from him as he pressed down on me harder.

My breath caught sensationally in my throat, and I had to pull back for lack of air; Fang was laughing unselfishly at me, and to get him back I licked his lips before settling mine properly over his. At this, he was shocked, and it was him who had to pull back for lack of breath.

I simply smiled devilishly.

In response to my teasing, he stuck his warm, large hands up my hoodie and began slinking them upward, his eyes boring into my with such hot intensity that I couldn't look away, and I didn't even think I would if I could. My stomach swelled at the feel of his hands on my bare skin, and I arched into him, hoping to get as closer as possible. He grinned down at me, knowing what I wanted, and then giving it to me when his hands traced the undersides of my bra.

I sighed, closed my eyes, and allowed him to manipulate my body just by tickling my skin lightly, making me gasp at some points and then breath deeply at others. He was my drug, and I was addicted. I loved the way he made me feel, and the way I couldn't help but always want to be around him. I loved who he was as a person, how he took care of other people, how he wouldn't let them atone for what he has done. Fang was one of those people that you couldn't help but love.

So, did that mean I loved him, too?

The thought of loving Fang scared me because I'd never felt this strongly for someone before, even though I'd just met him.

But then – his hands were cupping my breasts, and I was trying hard to bite back a loud scream of brilliant sensation, making my body jerk with convulsing shivers and racking trembles that shook my entire frame from head to toe. Dylan had touched me like this before – once – but it hadn't nearly felt as good. I didn't think anything in life would ever feel this good.

When Fang spoke, his voice was ragged and hoarse, as if he were in great pain. "God, Max, if we keep this up something's gonna happen," he roughly whispered in my ear as he feathered light kisses across my face, all the while still touching me so intimately. "And if we go any further, I'm not goin' to be able to stop myself. So tell me to stop. Right now."

His lips were at my ear, gently nipping and sucking and biting while I contemplated what he had said. I didn't want to complicate any relationship by having sex, because I didn't think it'd be worth it. I was going to try to wait till marriage like my parents did, but if I meant that right guy and I knew he loved me, I wouldn't hesitate to take that next step. That was just my idea.

"How about, instead of doing something that will only further complicate our relationship, we just go to sleep? We can both use it, so don't try to get out of it, hillbilly," I suggested, flashing him a bright grin, hoping that he would take what I was saying seriously and allow us both to rest. I pushed his hands off my breasts and out from under my shirt, afraid that if I left them there any longer I'd lose it.

He looked at me, his dark brown eyes boring into my lighter brown eyes, and he waited so long to say something that I was discouraged, thinking that maybe I had unintentionally insulted him somehow. But then he cracked a grin – a real grin, not just a gritty smirk that relayed how annoyed and adrenaline-filled he was experiencing. And I couldn't help but smile back, because he was just infectious like that, always making me feel light and weightless, like I could take on anything, like I was invincible.

He made me live up to my given name. He really did, and I think he knew it, because of the way he was looking at me, eyes sparkling and everything.

"Have I ever told you how much it turns me on to hear you call me 'hillbilly'?" he asked, winking at me, laying his head on my stomach, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up slightly, allowing me to get comfortable. I snuggled into the door, forgetting about the fact that the armrest was digging painfully into my back and making me nearly mad with anger, and slipped my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp carefully. He moaned loudly, his breath tickling the bared skin where my hoodie had risen up. "God, that feels wonderful."

I giggled, lowly. "Shut up and go to sleep, you inane person," I said to him, pressing his face down into my stomach firmly, running my hands through his long hair softly, loving the way he was moaning lightly in pleasure.

"Okay," he said, his voice fading slightly as he talked, sounding faraway and already half asleep.

I couldn't help a happy smile from spreading across my face from just watching him. His face was turned sideways so I had a side view of him, his slender nose poking out with a dark dotting of freckles. His lips were parted, and he was breathing deeply, shallowly, and it was then that I knew he was already asleep. Not that I could blame him. Having to deal with an entire group of people, plus two more groups, was a lot to take on, but Fang did it with bravery.

Exhaustion settled across me at that moment, and my hands fell limp from his head, as if it took a lot out of me just to palpate his scalp. The sun was speaking up over the horizon, sending hot pink, lavender, light green, and sky blue tendrils that looked like licking flames of fire encasing the entire atmosphere. Sleep was flirting with my brain, making me yawn uncontrollably till my eyes were drooped shut and I had propped my elbow against the door handle to lay my head on my balled up fist.

_Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy..._

And then, right when I was on the edge of sleep with the sun peaking up over the mountain, fanning the world around it in a light hazy glow with the blue clouds and green-tinted sky, my phone began to violently vibrate before playing Rodney Carrington's playful song, 'Titties and Beer'. I groaned loudly, arching my back and trying to not jostle Fang too much that it woke him up, and groped my pocket, trying to silence it quickly.

I pulled it out swiftly, unlocked it and brought it up to my ear, opting for a groggy tone to let on to my mother that I had been sleeping when, in fact, I had been partying. "Mom, that you?"

She breathed a deep sigh of relief it seemed, and said, "Honey, I am happy you picked up." My mom was probably the sweetest person I knew, and she even talked like it; her voice was like warm melted honey splashing over you, and if sent chills down your spine from the sheer gentleness of it. I was the exact opposite of my mom: whereas she was sweeter than my Granny's apple pie, I was as tart as a lemon. I was my father, reincarnated as a girl. I was better looking, but that went unsaid.

I bit back a maddened curse as Fang shifted tensely and stuck his head up, a lazy smirk on his lips while his eyes were half-lidded in sleep. His half-smile was doing funny things to my stomach, and I tried to not acknowledge all the emotions breaking free. Why had it never been like this with Dylan? "Why's that?" I asked, mouthing the word 'Mom' to him when he asked me who it was. His eyes suddenly widened, and he laid back down, tickling my back through my hoodie and making me wriggle in annoyance and pleasure. It felt _good, _really good.

She sighed again. "Your father tackled his boss because he bad-mouthed some singer and got himself fired, so we're coming home early. We're just leaving the city, so we figure we'll be back in Tulsa around ten or so this morning. Is that okay with you and your brother and sister?"

I was shocked, numb down to my core, and choked on the breath I was deeply sucking in. I couldn't let my surprise show right now, because I knew my mom, and if she heard it she would instantly know something wasn't exactly right. "Yeah, Mom, that's cool," I said, but in reality it wasn't cool. Nothing was cool about that. I wasn't even in Tulsa, and neither was my siblings or any of my close friends. But I couldn't' tell my mom that. She was an angel, sure, but she had a devil in her that scorned me whenever I released it.

"Good, honey," she replied, acting as if she hadn't heard the hoarse raggedness of disbelief in my tone, breathing as if she were somehow relieved of something again. "I'll let you go back to sleep; it's pretty early. So I'll get off here. Bye, darling. I love you."

"Love you too," I said as I heard the phone click off and the call end.

I was breathing deeply, as if I were in labor, like J.J. had before. I couldn't believe this, didn't think I would ever be able to wrap my mind around it. Why did it have to happen? Why couldn't my parents have just stayed in Oklahoma City and let me spend a small, tiny amount of time in Fang's arms, just relaxing and sleeping? Why did my father have to freak out on his boss and tackle him? What singer was that important?

"What was that about?" Fang asked, nuzzling his nose into my bellybutton, and I was too high-strung, scared, worried that I looked passed the tingling feeling in my blood at his caress and instead pushed him away, twisting around behind me to unlock and open the door before struggling to get out, landing oddly on the ground and stumbling slightly. "What's up with you?"

He had followed me out, and was now standing beside me on the ground, rubbing my back while I was breathing heavily and nearly hyperventilating while leaning on the hood of his dad's truck, trying to calm myself down so I could tell him what was going on. The truck's exterior smelt of oil, gasoline, and rust; a weird combination that attracted me, like a bear to honey. What was up with all the nice smells in the country?

"Max?" he whispered, his hand snaking up to grasp my nape and massage the skin while he leaned down to kiss the tip of my ear. I shivered, not from the cold or his touch, but the sheer shock in my veins. This was _not _happening. This _couldn't _be happening. "Max, you know you can talk to me, right? Anything, and I'll to my best to make it better."

I nodded, because I did know. Fang was a good person, in more ways than one, and I knew I could talk to him because he showed that air of superiority that accompanied anyone who could listen instead of talk. He was unique, in his own way, a one of a kind person whom you just didn't run into randomly on the streets everyday. And I think he knew that.

So I looked at him, straight in the eye, hoping to convey my panic and horror with just a glimpse, and said, "My parents are on their way home from the City. Right now."

"Shit," he muttered, turning away from me and stomping off around the front of the truck, slapping the hood in vexation, it seemed. The noise made a loud, resounding thump, and I jumped, unused to the sudden thundering of the hood bending in and then snapping back out in the correct form. "Get in the car. We've gotta head out now if we want to beat 'em."

I looked at him, closely, squinting my eyes. Through the perturbation in my mind, I studied him hard, trying to see passed his calm, cool exterior and catch of glance of the hidden devil behind the mask, thinking up something complicated and rather strenuous, but I knew if I wanted to beat my parents home I had to go by his plan, his rules, his style.

To say in the least, I was surprised by my sudden change in moods. First I was scared, and now I was excited, determined, looking forward to the wild ride we were sure to endure on the way to Tulsa. Fang was weird like that; he could change my mood with just a smile, a wink, or a glare. It was so odd, so insanely weird and unnatural, misunderstood and bright and glittery, but it felt right, as if his soul purpose was to challenge me at every turn in my life and push me on when I thought I was done and ready to completely give up.

I liked it. A lot more than I probably should, but I was passionate in some ways.

I started off toward his car, parked around behind the house of royalty, and grinned at him over my shoulder, asking, "What do you have in mind for me, hillbilly?"

Fang's evil, devil-may-care grin, the sadistic smirk making his eyes light glitteringly, as if they were ricocheting the glint from the sun or a moon or lightning bug. And it made my spine absolutely crawl with expectation.

**Not my best work, and the next chapter will be the last. I think it's time to close out this story and start on another one. I mean, honestly, we all know this thing was dragging on. But I have to say that I am not overly unsatisfied with it. I mean, it's my first ever story that I have actually finished, and I did like it. But I've had a lot of problems in my life lately and I just can't focus on writing as much as I used to anymore. But there will be a sequel; I'm just not sure when it will be up. I hope everyone who's read this will read that one, too. And I completely understand if you don't. It's hard to be loyal to an author when they don't meet your expectations like they should. I do have ideas for other stories, though, and I am hoping to have them up before too long. I'm not the kind of author that begs for attention or anything, so I won't ask for any of you to read them or anything – although it would be cool if you checked them out. **

**And no other story will be up till later in the year, in case you were wondering. Maybe having the whole summer to focus on writing will lead me to some extraordinary motivation. One can only hope, right?**

**I've had fun with this story, I really have. In a weird way, it's taught me a lot of wonderful things about myself. Like if I would be the one to do what Fang and Max and them have done, and I only will if I have my best friend Tuff with me. So, if you ever hear about anything even remotely related to this story happening, just remember me. ;) **

**~ SoonerMagic **


	28. Chapter 28

**Ha, well, it's the end of this story. For good. I'll give the long note at the end, but I do have to say something to two people before I even start. **

**A shout out to my friend who gave me the idea for the ending of this story. It was her uncle and his friend that the incident later on in the chapter happened to, and so when she was telling me about it, I couldn't help but relate it to this story and how it'd make the greatest ending ever. **

**And, to Nia McCoy, who has actually been an insanely good friend, better than most, though we live in completely different states. In a lot of ways, she's helped me see things differently, and now I have a better understanding of myself. If I ever had a baby sister, Nia, I'd want her to be like you. And another thing: Parents may dictate your chooses, but they do not dictate your responses. **

**Enjoy;) **

**KICK IT IN THE STICKS **by **SOONERMAGIC **

Fang pulled out of the driveway and took a sharp left just as the red and blue sirens came into a more perfect, angular view. He stomped on the gas, sending us flying backward into the seat, molding our bodies to the plush leather as he swiftly gained ground with the Challenger. The cop cars – a newer version of a Dodge Charger – were fast, but while decked out with all that fancy official equipment of the law, it wasn't as fast as it had the potential to be.

Though the fact that we were reaching speeds well over a hundred was a surprise to me, considering there were eight people piled all into the Challenger, which would normally barely fit five. Talk about saving energy.

"Who in the world called the cops?" Iggy, sitting on the other side of Ella, who was next to me in the middle, demanded while watching as the police gained on us through the side mirror.

Fang, driving as if he were late to a meeting with the devil, simply shrugged, saying, "I don't know. Maybe they just realized we'd go back home. Or maybe it was that old man at the end of the street up here – you know that one. Mr. Wilson."

From the backseat, the Gasman snorted, probably still mad from being dragged away from his newborn baby and his wife, J.J. "That old man is too nosy for his own good. Can't he just keep to himself like any other person down here?"

In the back, Nudge grumbled, half asleep, her frizzy head on Ari's shoulder, who was so tired he was about to collapse into Angel as she leaned against the window. "Guess not. Old people are always stubborn like that, my friend," she said, quietly, as if it took her a great deal to even speak. I couldn't blame her, not really, because this night has been way tiring for all of us.

Fang chuckled deeply under his breath as he let off the gas for a moment, allowing the car to slow down before he jerked the wheel left and bounded onto the blacktop highway, cutting off a large minivan on its way to work. There was the intense blaring of a horn being punched, tires screeching shrilly on the pavement, and sliding sideways on the road till Fang rightened us just before we slid off the other side.

In the back, Angel groaned; I bit back the urge to tell her that the feeling was mutual. To everyone, probably. "Gah, I don't think I've ever been this tired," she moaned, turning in the seat and molding herself against the window, pressing her red face into the chilly glass. "I feel like I'm about to throw up. I just wanna go home and then go to bed. Maybe sleep the whole day."

I seen Gassy reach over and tap her thigh, giving it a thoughtful pinch for encouragement. "You know you can't do that. You know what we gotta do. Cleanin' up's gonna be the worst..." He trailed off, shivering at the very thought of having to pick up after the party.

Iggy piped in at that moment, simultaneously rubbing Ella's hair as she whimpered into his shoulder while watching the cops approach in the mirror. "And then there's explainin' to everyone why the hell everything is out of place, broke, or completely screwed. That'll be fun."

Fang slammed on the gas and shifted gears, making the tires scream in protest as they were turned and turned in different directions. "Don't be a smartass, Ig," he berated Iggy, taking a hard left down a backroad I hadn't noticed before. Trees were outlining the road, thick and heavy and tall, and you couldn't see through the thick aggregation of limbs and wide trunks. "We won't be explainin' anything if we don't shake off these losers we got trailing us."

At this, I looked up at the review mirror and saw that the cops were approaching rather quickly thanks to the incident we had with the van that caused us to slow our speed down. Though Fang was making good time, nearing the triple digits, he couldn't exactly shake off the cops since they hadn't been temporarily hindered.

"Fang, not to nag or anything, but do you think you can go a little bit faster?" I asked, pinching his knee to get his attention. He risked a side glance at me, his dark eyes narrowing in the early morning light just barely creeping up over the rolling mountains behind us. "I mean, the cops are getting a tad too close for my comfort, and I don't really want to start out senior year with a criminal record. That okay with you?"

In response, Fang merely tapped on the gas a couple times, sending the car flying forward, making me knock my head into his shoulder. The trees lining the road were blurring together, forming one big mass of green leaves and dark brown bark that made my eyes water just from looking at them. I wondered how fast we were going, but I was too scared to lean over and look. The shock of reality I'd get once I looked at the speedometer would probably be too much for me to take.

"Hey, Fang," Ari called from the back, tapping on Fang's shoulder. "I know I don't know this place as well as you, but on the way here I saw an overpass that had one of those cement ledges on the side. I seen on a movie that you can ramp the cement and end up on the overpass, and leave whoever was chasing you behind. Would that work?"

I lolled the suggestion over in my mind while Fang and everybody else did the same. I knew what he was talking about: it was that large elevated slab of thick concrete that runs down the overpass like the side of a mountain. I didn't know the technical term, if they even had one, but I did know that they were common, and the empty space beside them is mostly unoccupied by anything all the time.

Maybe it could work. Maybe ramping something would be the only way to save our hides before we got skinned, and if ramping something meant I could beat my parents home, then so be it.

Fang started laughing, and I looked up at him, shocked and confused. What was he thinking? Was he laughing at my brother's odd idea, or was he laughing because the plan was so far-fetched that it'd never work? Fang was a puzzle that I didn't think I'd ever put together.

"You know what, son?" Fang said to Ari, winking at him in the mirror. "That just might work. And I know where to find one."

Just as he finished speaking, Fang spun the wheel in a wide arc, making the car turn giant circle in the dirt road till it stopped completely, facing the way we'd just came. The cops were now racing toward us at speeds so great it was a wonder they could keep their vehicles under control. Since we were facing them now, I could count how many were after us. Five. Not a lot, but enough.

Then Fang slammed on the gas and we took off toward the cops, as if we were playing chicken. I screamed – I couldn't help it. The fear of running toward someone head on was something that I have never had to face, but right now it was about to kill me. I shut my eyes tight and screamed again, shielding my face by smashing it into Fang's shoulder.

Him and Iggy were laughing heartily, as if they played chicken everyday just for kicks. I saw the flashing red and blue lights of the cops and tensed up, preparing myself for impact –

And then the lights were gone, and we were speeding passed the cops and out onto the main highway and down it so fast, so utterly quick that it was as if we were flying on the asphalt. Everything then began mix together, and I was only aware of one thing as we sped to the overpass that left Monroe.

Underneath the overpass was a large parking lot for a motel, with concrete slabs placed strategically around for spaces to park in. Fang was running them over, ramping and tossing the car up into the air, bumping us up till our heads collided with the ceiling. My head had already been hurting a better part of the night, but now it was hurting all the more; I never knew how hard a car's roof was till the moment.

"Youch!" Iggy screeched loudly, cursing colorfully as he rubbed his head; I could see a small patch of blood forming on his temple where it'd connected with the glass of the window. "Fang, think you could go any faster?"

"Shut up!" Fang screamed at Iggy, who quietened down almost immediately. Who wanted to have their head snapped off by a ticked off teenager with a mission to get me home before my parents got there?

The cops were following our every move; they had no idea what we were about to do. The concrete slab was quickly approaching in front of us, and I felt my heart flutter from nervous excitement. The flashing lights were about to blind me, but I didn't dare say a word, for fear that I'd somehow mess Fang up with his grand scheme of things. He had a plan that nobody could understand except himself.

"You guys had better be ready!" Fang called, making the car go faster and faster as we got closer and closer. "We're gonna be up in the air in about three seconds!"

_Three. _God, I was gonna die. I wasn't built to endure all the happenings of tonight.

_Two. _I lived a good life. I just hoped they had chocolate chip cookies in heaven.

_One. _Well, here goes everything and nothing at the same time.

Fang hit the ramp hard, jolting us all forward, then propelling us backward as we gained speed up the side. My head hurt, and so did my side and almost everywhere else, but the only thing I did was let out a small squeal as soon as the tires left the concrete.

And then we were up in the air, flying over the town of Monroe. I could see everything, from Fang's house to that old hut we had snuck out of to the Longbranch and the library. All of it.

But then, maybe two seconds later, we hit the ground, and let me tell you something, it _hurt. _

Really, _really _bad.

**PAGE BREAK **

"Stop the car!" Iggy screamed abruptly, which made Fang slam on the brakes so hard that we were all sent flying forward. Ella and myself slammed our foreheads against the dash; Iggy hit his head on the window; in the back, Nudge and the Gasman bumped heads while Ari and Angel each slammed their faces into the headrests on top of the seats. Fang was the only one safe since he'd had a good grip on the wheel.

Pain shot through my head, though it was no comparison to what I had earlier experienced, and so I bit back a moan instead of showing how much it actually did hurt. Ella, bless her heart, had smacked her nose, though it wasn't hard enough to bust, and she was crying into Iggy's shoulder, who was cursing up a storm and rubbing his temple.

"Dude, what the hell!" Fang yelled in the quietness of the car, and my ears rang from his boisterous voice. Couldn't he just take it down a couple notches? It was all so ridiculous. "What could possibly be so important that you had to freaking scream?"

Iggy looked at Fang as if he were a mischievous child pretending to be innocent while giving his parent the puppy dog eyes. "There's a llama in that pin right there," he explained, pointing out the window without looking, as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

Fang gave him the evil eye, as if he could roast Iggy with the intense glare, but it was the Gasman who spoke up.

"What the hell is so cool about some llama? Honestly, Ig. I know you're childish in many ways, but can't you just control yourself? You've seen a llama before, at the fair, and that thing broke your nose. Why do you want to look a one now?"

Iggy crossed his arms and pouted, acting spoiled. "Maybe I just want to pet it."

It shocked me at how he was acting like a child, and the Gasman and Fang were the adults having to deal with his spoiled attitude. Maybe it was the liquor, but Iggy sure was acting odd.

"Fine," Fang said, waving his head as he shut off the car and unbuckled. "You got five minutes with that dang thing. Better make it count."

Iggy pushed open the door and bounced out before Fang was even finished talking, Ella following close behind. Fang sighed loudly, though I could practically see his smile he was hiding, and opened the door, helping me out once he himself was. Flashing me a quick smirk and a wink, he reached in and folded the seat down to let the others out, who all happily jumped to escape the confinements of the claustrophobic car.

Without so much as a word to Fang and me, they took off toward the fence line, which Iggy had jumped and was now running after a large llama standing in the middle of the field, acting as if an idiot wasn't running toward him.

"So," I started as Fang shut the door. "Just how did the llama break Iggy's nose at the fair?"

Fang snickered, pressing his hand to his mouth, and by the way he was trying to suppress his laughter, I knew this memory wasn't one Iggy cared to remember at all. "They had this contest where, if you caught the llama, you could keep it. And so Iggy and about twenty others entered. Iggy hopped up on the thing's back and it threw him off, then stepped on his groin and kick his nose."

I winced. "Ouch. Sounds like a bad blow to his ego. Bet it hurt both ways. Who ended up winning?"

Fang frowned. "I think Ryder did – the one who threw the snake on you – but I can't be sure. It's been so long ago," he said, grabbing my hand and leading me around the front of the car toward the fence where everybody was crowded around watching Iggy.

I pushed my way through so I could get a good view.

The llama reared back and stomped its foot, like a rodeo bull would do right before it was about to charge the clown with the red flag. Though Iggy was inebriated out of his mind, he knew the warning signs of a charge, and turned on his heel and took off running with his hands thrown up in the air, looking behind himself as he ran away slowly. To him, though , it was probably fast.

"The llama's chasin' me!" Iggy dazedly called to us as we surrounded the fence in which the llama was being kept, watching him act like a drunk idiot.

Iggy's sloppy, beyond happy grin was infectious, and soon I was smiling as well, looking up at Fang as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, molding me against him. Fang was grinning as well, very toothily, and I realized that I'd never seen a full smile on him till this moment. I'd never seen him actually smile till Iggy was being chased by a llama, and we were doing nothing but watching him.

In the short time I'd spent with everyone, I knew that I'd never forget them. How could you forget people who were so unforgettable? Something like that was impossible. They had rooted their way into my heart, and now I got to deal with them, but I wouldn't have it any other way. They were wild and crazy and funny and insane, but that didn't mean a person couldn't like them. That was what made them who they were. Maybe it wasn't so bad to be country, after all.

But then Iggy tripping over the barbed wire fence and screeching as the llama kicked his bare butt tore me from my thoughts, and I was standing there with everyone else, gawking. Iggy hadn't been looking, and so he had fell over the fence, and the wire had caught his pants and ripped them down, baring his butt to anyone who cared enough to see.

"Get me off!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, kicking at the llama as tried to thump him in the bare butt again.

Fang, who had removed his arms from around my shoulders and started toward Iggy, was no rolling on the ground, laughing, clutching his stomach in hysterics, as if he were about to die it was so funny. His eyes began to water, and I broke out in a small, nervous laugh just by watching him.

"Ain't gonna happen, Igster!" Fang called from where he was, still on the ground but not rolling. Nudge appeared beside him, and, along with Angel, she hoisted him up off the ground, holding onto him just in case he fell. "You got yourself up there, so get yourself down."

Ari and Gasser were throwing rocks at the llama, and Ella was trying to untangle his pants, but nothing was working. The llama had started to back off, which was all good and well, but we still had a little problem with Iggy being caught up in the fence and all. How were we going to get him out?

But a small smile and a wicked wink from Fang told me everything was going to be okay.

**PAGE BREAK. **

"Wake up now, Angel, and let's kiss you goodnight before your parents get home," someone whispered in my ear, and I weakly swatted at them as I was lifted from the seat of the Challenger and carried somewhere that had lights shining and blazing. It reminded me of the sun in all its brightness, but I knew the sun didn't have a blue bug zapper right next to its light.

My house did, though. My house in Tulsa.

We were in Tulsa. My mind accepted that thought, and I tiredly opened my eyes just as Fang set me down on my own two feet in front of the Challenger. I looked ahead at the porch to see Ella and Iggy making out on the plaid porch swing, and Ari and Nudge unlocking the door so they could go inside and finally go to sleep.

Behind me, I knew the Gasman was passed out cold from the exuberant snoring coming from the backseat. Angel was right beside him, laying on his lap with her feet propped up, sleeping soundly. How she could stay asleep with Gazzy's loud snores, though, was a mystery to me.

"I'm home," I said to Fang as I looked back up at him, and all he did was smile happily.

Fang grasped my hand as we walked up the driveway, ignoring Ella and Iggy as they sloppily made out on the porch swing. I knew, from the very first moment, that those two would be good together. Iggy, with his craziness and Ella, with her calmness. They were going to last a long time, if not forever. People say opposites attract, and maybe that's true. Maybe being different from one another is what love is all about when it really comes down to it.

I smiled warmly at nothing, looking up at the sky, separating the individual colors of blue, gray, and purple, and right as we stepped onto the porch Fang caught sight of my weird grin.

"What's so funny?" he asked curiously, wiping a loose wisp of my brown hair from my face and tucking it behind my ear. That simple gesture made me shiver slightly, and I wondered if I would ever be used to what he did to me. Fang noticed the shiver, and a triumphant smile spread across his inviting lips.

I shrugged, still smiling as I used his hand to pull him closer to me. He obliged to the nearness willingly, and I wrapped my arms loosely around his waist and tipped my head back so I could stare up into the eyes of the boy who stole my heart while showing me around a country boy's world.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," I said, leaning up to tip my forehead against his. His forehead had a small dotting collection of perspiration, and it made my skin slick, though I didn't pull back. I couldn't make myself pull back, even though we were all but sharing our sweat. It was weird; being close meant making sacrifices, and if mingling our sweat meant closeness, then I would gladly do it, everyday of my life.

He arched against me slightly, pressing his lips carefully against mine, dotting feather-light kisses across my mouth that felt like the soft beating of butterfly wings. I sighed, because I loved how he made me feel, as if I were the most precious thing in the world, and that he treasured me. I'd never felt this way before, and I wasn't in the mood to give it up just yet. I loved myself too much to make myself go without.

He pulled back, slowly, and said against my lips, "We'd better stop right now before we end up like Ella and Iggy over there. Looks like they're eatin' each other's faces off, huh?"

I laughed at his correct observation of Iggy and Ella. "You're weird, Fang," I said, reaching my arms up and winding them around his neck again, more tightly this time. He leaned into the feel of me, pushing me gently against the bricks and placing his hands on either side of my face, framing my body with his delectably.

One side of his mouth quirked up boyishly, so charmingly, that I had to catch my breath. "You see, Max, I've got this theory," he said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that something stupid was about to come out of his mouth. "We're all a little weird, and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."

His words plucked something inside me, and I bit my lip as I thought. Fang had all but said he loved me, but how could he when I'd dated his cousin, his good friend? You can't just get over something like that. It wasn't natural. Fang couldn't feel that deeply for me, not yet, after only one night. And he couldn't put my past behind us just yet, not when I still had strong ties with Dylan.

I sighed, laying my head on his shoulder. He leaned in, shielding me from the chilly wind of late October. "But I was with your cousin for two years," I reminded him. "You can't get over something like that."

Fang shrugged slightly. "Here's the thing, Max," he began slowly, and I opened my ears up wide to listen to him, "I don't care about your past. All I want to know is if there's a place for me in your future."

I gasped, because his words were so genuine and heartfelt that it made my own heart hurt. For someone to ever do Fang wrong, they had to have had a damn good reason, because Fang was so insanely sweet, in that country boy way, that it was nearly impossible to hate him. And he took care of his own. That was amazing, since nowadays most people hate their family and friends, whereas I knew for a fact that Fang would take a bullet for anyone he loved. He was just that way.

His life was just that way.

I looked down from his eyes, focusing on a brown spot, tainted into the wood from years of being stomped on and having thousands of things pound of top; it had probably been a glob of gum, but now it blended in with the boards of the porch, and the only way to really see it was to strain your eyes. It was nice to put all my focus on something instead of having to give it all to Fang and his words.

"I won't make you say that you love me or anything, Fang," I mumbled, blushing despite myself. I heard him make a weird sound in the back of his throat, and then his hands were on my chin, tilting my face upward so I could stare into his dark, hazy eyes. I took a deep breath around the lump and called on the courage I knew I had, deep down. "I mean, you can't love me yet. It's not even been a day since we've met, though it does feel like forever. Tonight was the best night of my life."

He smiled, ever so slightly, his face crinkling at the corners. "Max, darlin', you have no idea how strongly I feel for you," he whispered, brushing his lips across my forehead. "I've only ever loved one girl, and that is my mama, with all my heart, but I know that in time I will come to love you. If you'll have me, that is."

I blushed and looked down, closing my eyes against his sweet words. Why did they have to affect me so much? "I'd be stupid if I didn't want you, hillbilly," I said, allowing the smirk on my lips to slip into my tone.

He chuckled and clucked my chin, though he made no move to tilt my head back up. I think he knew that I didn't really want to be looked at right at this moment, not when my heart was showing to him and I was vulnerable to any little thing he said.

"Thanks, Max, darlin'. Just give me a little time. It might take a little time to patch me up after everything that's happened, but what's broken can be fixed again. Don't give up on me any time soon, okay?"

I nodded and leaned into him, placing my head against his shoulder. He smelled musky, like the humid night air mixed with sweat and the heady scent of fog on a lake in the early morning. It was odd; I didn't think I could ever distinguish the smells of the country life, but then again here I was, being a pro when it came to identifying Fang's scent.

"Are you smellin' my shoulder, Max?" he asked huskily, chuckling deeply, and I nodded unashamedly against his shoulder. I saw no point in lying when I had been. Besides, he smelled good. Real good. Even after the hellish night we'd had he still smelled better than most people would have. He probably had a small sprayer thing with cologne in it – I knew a few people who did.

"You smell like... like the way I imagined the country to smell," I whispered, placing a chaste kiss on his shoulder, relishing the way he shivered at my light touch. "It's weird, I know, but that's just the way it is."

He shrugged, making my head jostle, and I pulled back to stare up at him again. "Bein' weird isn't as bad as people make it out to be," he said, the background noise of Ella being shoved into the house by Iggy before he took off down the porch steps, wiping his eyes echoing around us. "If all the people in the world was alike, it wouldn't be nearly as fun as it is today. The differences of everyone is what makes this world what it is."

"You have a point, hillbilly," I said, leaning up to place a platonic kiss on the side of his mouth, halfway on his cheek. "You'd better get on home before my parents show up, Fang."

He groaned, but nodded. "Yeah, but I don't want to go," he whispered.

I knew how he felt, because I was feeling the same way. It was like my heart was hurting since I had to say goodbye to Fang. But I knew I'd never see him again if he didn't go right now. My parents would kill us both.

"I don't want you to, either," I replied, kissing him hard and long on the lips, imprinting the feel of his lips on my lips so I had something to remember him by when he left. He kissed me back roughly, scratching at my back as he pulled me closer.

"I have to go," he said, breathlessly, pulling back and letting me loose as he stepped down. The look in his eyes, one of conflicting emotions that rattled me to the core, was beautifully broken, and ashamedly sensitive. The look left me gasping for air. "If I don't leave now, I'm not sure I ever will. Bye, darlin'. Have fun till next time."

The only thing I could do was nod as he walked away. I couldn't tell him that I'd never forget this night, or that I'd never forget him and everything we'd done together. My mouth was glued shut by the raging war of emotions inside my stomach, and it hurt just to see him walk away, his boots clicking noisily on the rocks that led up to the porch. I had to say _something. _I just had to.

"Fang," I called to him, and he turned around immediately, flashing me a devilishly cute smirk. "When you get back to Monroe, why don't you look me up?"

Fang laughed loudly, and I grinned at the attracting sound. "Look you up?" he called back to me, repeating my words, and I nodded eagerly, showing him that I was interested. _Very_ interested. "Honey, I'm gonna hunt you down."

I laughed at his comment and gave one final wave to Fang as he jumped into his Challenger and slammed the door, turning the ignition and revving the engine a couple times before backing out of my driveway and pulling away. He sped down the road, tapping his brakes at the stop-sign at the intersection between Maple Loop and Gilbert Lane; his hand appeared out the window and he gave me a flick of his wrist in a funny wave that signaled goodbye, but not for long. Not for long at all.

High on life, love, and happiness, I turned around and jostled the knob till it loosened and opened. I stepped into the house, sighing when a blast of heated air slammed into me and knocked me against the door as I shut it tightly, flicking the lock on the knob. Ella must've tinkered with the thermostat before she pranced up to her room and probably passed right out on her plush bed with the orange and pink comforter.

I wonder what happened with her and her boyfriend? I didn't get a chance to ask her. If he hurt her, I swear... Iggy would take care of it for me. I smirked – oh yes, Iggy wouldn't let nothing happen to _his_ Ella. For sure.

Looking up at the high ceiling and counting the individual swirls of ivory, black, and white, I sighed and sank down to the floor, using the door as leverage so I wouldn't slip and fall. I looked at my clothes: the hoodie I had on was Holden's, the jeans and boots were Fang's mother's, and the socks were Johnny's. I had to remind myself to give all the clothes back when I saw everyone again. In the meantime, I just had to hide them from my parents.

I moaned – _my parents. _Were they even here? I hadn't seen the car in the driveway, and Ella and Ari hadn't come out screaming, so my best bet was that they weren't here. I just hoped they never found out about tonight. If they did, there was not telling what would happen to me. I just couldn't let them find out. I would do everything in my power to make them not find out, as I'm sure my siblings and the others would as well.

Hell hath no fury like a parent betrayed. It ain't even right.

I didn't want to get up and go to my room, so I just crawled on my knees to the dark red, plush leather couch in the living room. The TV was on, and I slammed the 'off' button on the remote as I pulled myself up and unfolded the covers from the back of the couch. I stretched the blankets over my body and turned into the back of the couch, snuggling deep into the covers.

As I closed my eyes, an image of Fang flashed across my vision. It was when I'd first met him, with his hat pulled so low that I couldn't see his eyes till he was right in front of me. My heart had fluttered insanely then, but now it was beating madly, trying to get out. Without knowing it, I'd already given my heart to Fang. I just hoped he took care of it better than other people had.

I was a different person now. I looked at things differently. The country life wasn't something that one should look down on, and family and friends were all you needed to make you happy, as long as they themselves were happy, too. Having a little fun once in a while was okay, and there wasn't a such thing as having too much fun. It hurt whenever you ramped something and came back down, but as long as you had someone there to help you get through the pain it was all worth it. Life, though it was hard to tell, was worth it. Living was worth it.

My life and views had been drastically changed. And all because I let a good looking, sweet, funny hillbilly show me around a country boy's world and teach me how to kick it in the sticks with the critters. I had to admit, country life wasn't as bad as I first thought it was.

**Wow. That's it. I'm done with this story finally. It's all surreal, like it's all fake – I guess I never thought I'd finish. But I did. Dang. **

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and favorited and everything like that. You absolutely have no idea how happy I was when I'd look at my email and see 50 unread messages. It's things like that that make writing worth it. It's knowing that maybe, just maybe, your words can change the mind of someone and help them to see something in a different light. **

**I'm not big on goodbyes, so this won't be mushy or anything. Writing this has taught me so much. I can't even go into detail. A lot of things have happened, and I'm not sure if I would take anything back now. With the story, I mean. I've been criticized for supporting slavery from having a rebel flag shower curtain, but then again that flag doesn't symbolize the enslaved people. It represents the Confederate Army, the Confederacy. Just look at a history book, it'll tell ya. ;)**

**Answers to some commonly asked questions:**

**What does OMGP mean – Oh my guinea pig. **

**Will there be a sequel – Yes. It'll be in Las Vegas. Kinda like the Hangover, but better. **

**Am I from the south – Yes. The deep south. **

**Is the events real – Everything that has happened in this story has happened in real life. **

**Why did I write this story – I wanted to make a funny story that really showed people that being country isn't all that bad. **

**Goodness, this has been one wild ride. And it's gonna be even wilder in the sequel, if everything goes as planned. I hope so. I really do. I can't put in words how thankful I am to have readers that will read and review almost every chapter. I don't like to think of them as readers, though – more like friends. And I think I have a lot of friends;) **

**So, I guess this is goodbye, but not for good. Give me some time for the sequel, and it'll be good. Really good. Thanks for reading and reviewing, and accompanying me on this wild ride. I appreciate it;)**

**~ SoonerMagic **


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